


A tale of ghostly redemption

by Left4Shade-Due (ShadeDuelist)



Category: Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-15
Updated: 2012-12-15
Packaged: 2017-11-21 05:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadeDuelist/pseuds/Left4Shade-Due
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick's a cold-hearted businessman that really does not like Christmas.  He's ruthless to his tenant, to his employees, and to himself - but what if someone that loves him prays for his redemption?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was December 24th, and all around the town people were busy preparing for the next day’s Christmas dinner.  Florists were selling wreaths and holly flowerpieces, supermarkets were barely coping with the overflow of last-minute purchases, gift shops were flourishing.  All in all, it was a cozily busy day.

 

But not for Nick.

 

He walked down the street, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his light grey overcoat, face nearly completely covered by a dark green scarf, his pace brisk and his frown bordering on an outright glare.  People, as usually, took a step back or paused in their daily routine as he passed – some knew how the time of year affected him, and others merely had been privy to his temper before, therefore making all but the most foolish avoid him like the plague.  Nick was used to it and he preferred it.  People were only tedious anyway, slowing him down, keeping him from being sharp…

 

He turned a corner and bumped into a woman with a child.  The young girl looked up at him apologetically, her eyes large as she clutched the list she’d prepared for Santa with the appropriate care.  Any other man would pause, excuse himself, or at least be mollified by the girl’s sweetness.

 

But not Nick.  Especially not Nick.

 

No, instead Nick barked at the child and the woman, told them to watch out, that they shouldn’t be allowed outside if all they did was walk into people that had places to go.  Of course that got the little girl to cry loudly, and people stared at them, but once they noticed it was Nick that had upset her, they went on with their daily lives.  One or two people, closest to where he stood, comforted the girl and the mother, who was also on the verge of tears.

 

Nick was too far ahead already to see the glares they cast at him, and even if he had noticed, he wouldn’t have apologized for his actions.

 

Soon, Nick neared his office.  He ran a successful online business since his second divorce, and the income from it had enabled him to upscale his property a bit.  He owned the building where his office was, consisting of a car body workshop and tow-truck service at the ground floor, his office at the mid floor, and a ballet dance room at the top floor.  The soundproofing for the building had cost him an arm and a leg, but a garage and a ballroom were very lucrative and he was making more than enough to fully earn back the money he pumped into it.

 

…That is, if they payed their due rent in time.  And though the ballet company that rented the ballroom from him was very punctual, the garage owner, Bob Tanner… less so.  He’d come up with excuses for five days, and for five days Nick had let him postpone his payment, but now his patience had worn thin.  He decided to take a detour to the garage, to talk to his tenant first.  Bob saw him coming and grinned, wiping his hands on an oil rag before extending one for him to shake, but Nick just gave him a scathing glance.  It was already bad enough that he risked his pristine white suit by going inside the garage.

 

“Mister Masters, how are you today?  Preparing for a grand feast tomorrow, I’ll bet-“

 

“Tanner, I’m not here to make smalltalk, I’m here to collect.”, Nick reacted briskly, and the man in front of him seemed to be knocked back: he took a step back, looking like he’d seen a ghost.

 

“M-mister Masters, please… it’s… I’ll pay you next week, after the holidays, I swear, but-“, he tried, only to look at Nick’s glare and pale.  “…I-it’s Christmas, mister Masters!”

 

“All the more reason to set your affairs in order, Tanner.  Or did you think that you’d get a single day’s wait anymore?  I’ve been waiting for my rent for five days now-“

 

“B-but Christmas i-isn’t a good time… people do their shopping first… I can’t just…”, the garage owner said softly, prompting Nick to sigh wearily, turning his back to the man for a second.  He didn’t want to see the man’s face, knowing the pleading look he’d be getting.  It was always so aggravating, people thinking that kind of thing would work on him.  So he took a good deep breath, straightened his shoulders, and turned back to the man.

 

“Tanner, I expect the money tomorrow morning, at ten sharp – in my hand.  Or you’ll have to start looking for another building for rent for that garage of yours.”  When the mechanic sputtered, at a loss for words, Nick turned sharply on his heels and left.  The man could argue all he wanted, but it wouldn’t make a difference.  Making his way up the stairs, Nick settled into his office – that day, he was alone in the office, since most of his employees had called in sick with the flu, and his secretary was off arranging something for him a few towns over.  It was a calm day.  Nick mused that the one good thing about the holidays was that people didn’t have time to stop and ponder that his prices were higher.

 

It took about three hours and several phone calls before a knock sounded on his door.  Nick groaned – he hadn’t even heard the footsteps coming up the stairs, but he could just imagine those dirty oily workboots making dirty oily footprints on the pristine floors of his office floor.  Then, another knock sounded – clearly the one standing there was impatient – and Nick sighed in irritation.

 

“If you’re waiting for an invitation, go the hell away…”  Which, of course, made the person standing in the hallway open the door and enter the office.

 

“Uh, misteh Masters, sir?  Ah… Ah dunno if’n yew know me, ah’m Keith Davidson, ‘m one’a the mechanics workin’ fer Bob-“

 

“I never would’ve guessed.”, Nick said drily – if the tall redheaded man’s grimy, oil-stained coveralls and workboots weren’t an indication of where he worked, then he didn’t know what would be.  Yet the guy just chuckled and nodded.

 

“Yeah, ah get tha’ a lot… uh, yeah, act’shully ah came tuh ask yew, sir, if’n yew could maybe give Bob jus’ one more day-“

 

“No.”, Nick said, never looking up from his work.

 

“B-but-“

 

“No.”, Nick repeated, sighing in aggravation.  The mechanic was grating on his nerves with every word he said – already, he could feel the anger flooding his mind like a surge of blinding heat, making his hands itch and his heart speed up.  Ready for a fight, even though he couldn’t take on the admittedly huge mechanic who was well-toned from dragging around heavy equipment all day.

 

“Misteh Masters, yew… yew can’’ be tha’ cruel, ah-“  He was abruptly cut off by Nick, who finished the sentence he’d meant to utter.

 

“Well, _believe_ it, uh… _Keith_ …”, Nick said, gritting his teeth in an attempt to hold himself back.  “Tell _Bob_ I want that money at ten sharp tomorrow or I’m locking him out.  And tell him the next time he sends someone up here-“

 

“He ain’t sent me up ‘ere, misteh Masters, ah came up ‘ere outta mah own-“, Keith started, and now Nick slammed his fist down onto the table, halting the mechanic’s explanation abruptly.

 

“I could care less why you’re here – the next of you that comes up here had better bring me the rent due.  My patience is limited.  Now go back to your work – or do you think your boss is going to get that rent with you slacking off?”  His voice was cold but it had the desired effect: the mechanic took a step back, looking as if he’d been doused in ice-cold water.  He didn’t even know what to say anymore, apparently – just as speechless as his boss had been before, which was just as well because the last thing Nick could use right now was a sassy response – and in the end he just slowly started walking away.  However, when the mechanic was at the door to his office, he turned around and looked at Nick with a sad kind of look, shaking his head.

 

“…Yew ain’t got no heart, man…”

 

“I don’t need a damn heart.”, Nick reacted, gritting his teeth and moving to the door – but the mechanic already closed it behind him as he exited.  His heavy footsteps sounded much clearer now that Nick was listening for them, waiting for them to go away before exhaling sharply.  He didn’t need a heart if all it’d do was make him less sharp in his day-to-day life, less alert, less observant… more likely to get screwed over…

 

His eyes flitted over to the motto that hung above his bookcase, and he nodded as he once again mentally absorbed the words.  _“One can only tolerate the absolute idiocy of Man for so long before bringing out the bat.”_  Wise words by a wise man, Nick mused.  He thought most people were morons, led by weakness and all running to the same pitfall that he had so narrowly avoided.  His irritation ebbed away only slowly, lunch speeding up the process only little and the sweet apple pie he’d bought from a foodstand about an hour later adding to it when the pie slice he’d bought turned out to be only lukewarm by the time he took the first bite.  By the time he left his office again for the day, he was still slightly irritated.  He had to pass by the garage on his way back to his house, but neither Bob nor that moronic mechanic that had come up to his office before showed any signs of stopping him and pleading for more time again, so Nick at least felt vindicated in that fact.

 

Of course, when he came home, he was met with the most dreadfully irritating man of them all.

 

“Howdy, Nick, hope yeh had a nice day at work tuhday!”  Ellis.  Ellis John Mason, his part-time handyman, who rented his home’s ground floor with Nick’s apartment being on the top floor.  Nick had run into him one night in a bar, and when the hick said he was a bit hard-up on cash and in need for a place of his own to stay, Nick offered him a job and a place in return for doing chores around the house.  And of course, Nick had regretted his one second of unthinking semi-kindness ever since.  Ellis was invariably cheery, optimistic, energetic, and seemed to find the pressure points to Nick’s painstakingly erected mental walls with a natural ease, like he was attuned to them perfectly.  And, of course, that day was no exception. 

 

“Ellis, how many times did I tell you to call me ‘mister Masters’, I’m your damn boss, not your friend…”

 

“Sure yew are mah friend!”, Ellis commented, as always oblivious to decorum and the proper respect.  Nick had grown accustomed to a lot of things about living with the southerner: his cooking, the way he greeted him, the way he couldn’t leave the house without shouting to him where he was going and how long he’d be there, the sound of that old car of his roaring like a lion with joint pains every time he started the damn thing… the sound of his voice as he sang in the shower, the smell of his deodorant lingering throughout the house.  Not all of them were bad, and Nick had to admit that the hick hadn’t grated on his nerves in a long time, but that was the one thing that never changed.  Ellis would always be so… informal to him, and Nick had grown so tired of always having to correct the hick that he simply didn’t bother anymore, and now he just let him continue as well, figuring he’d run out of steam somewhere along the line.  “Yew asked me tuh clean out yer attic an’ ah found some old Christmas decora-shuns, ah put ‘em up in yer livin’ room-“

 

“Well, thank you so much, Ellis.”, Nick said, sarcasm positively dripping from his every word, but the hick seemed to pay it no heed, as usual.

 

“But, uh, ah kinda noticed – ah mean, ah weren’t snoopin’ or nothin’, Nick, mah momma taught me better’n that – but ah couldn’’ help but notice yew ain’t got no proper food in yer home fer t’morrah’s dinner!  A-an’… ah mean, yew can say no if’n yeh don’t wanna, but ‘s jus’ tha’…”  And suddenly Ellis blushed and looked away shyly – which he had never done before, so this slightly confused Nick.  Well, he had hesitated before, but not as long and as suddenly as this.  Normally Nick would tell the hick to grow a pair and tell him what was on his mind, but now he felt a bit apprehensive.  In the end, curiosity outweighed patience, and he sighed, turning to the hick again.

 

“It’s just what, Ellis?”

 

“W-well, mah ma always makes too much fer jus’ the three’f us anyways, a-an’… an’ yew always eat by yer lonesome… s-so, uh, ah asked mah ma if’n yew could come an’ she says ‘the more, the merrier’ so… ah mean, yew-“  Nick cut him off, his voice level and that tone of surprise mingling with a note that spelled trouble for the younger man.

 

“You… asked your mother if I could come.  Without asking me first if I _want_ to come.”  Ellis was once again oblivious to the rising ire in his voice and the growing rage in his eyes, speaking on softly, almost lovingly.

 

"Well, sure ah did!  An’, if’n yew wanna come, mah ma makes the best damn pecan pie thisside’uh the country!  Yew could love it-“

 

“You honestly believe that I’d go with you to your mother’s home?”, Nick said, surprise taking a backseat now to clear rage building in his voice and his entire body language, and the first faint dawnings of realization started to form on Ellis’ features, creasing his brow and making him cringe slightly.

 

“W-well, shucks, Nick, ah-“  However, now Nick was not going to stop.  All the irritation of the day needed a way out and here Ellis was, naïve and soft-hearted… so easy to upset, so easy to work out his frustrations on…

 

“I mean, we barely even _know_ one another!  You’re just some guy that works for me, Ellis – some guy that I rent rooms out to.  Someone I met in a goddamn _bar_ , for cryin’ out loud!  Besides, did it ever occur to you that I always eat alone out of choice?”

 

“W-well, sure, but…”, Ellis started, and Nick knew what was going to follow even before Ellis said it.  And say it he did – softly, with a sad tone and eyes glistening with tears.  “…But it’s _Christmas_ an’ ah…”  But where others bringing up that dreadful holiday around him would make him angry, _Ellis_ doing so made him uneasy more than anything else, and it was that unease that fuelled the ferocity of his reaction.

 

“Pffft, _bullshit._ That’s all Christmas is.  Bullshit, complete bullshit.  _Christmas_ is nothing but fake sentimentality used as a cover by greedy people like me to get people to spend a shitload of money on gifts nobody likes, a sad excuse for people to try and get on each other’s good side again after an entire year of screwing each other over day after day after day!  It’s got nothing to do with light or warmth, it’s just emotional blackmail.  Plus, like a moment like that makes up for an entire _year_ of being miserable.  And merry?  Nothing about Christmas is merry at all, it’s just a hopelessly outdated, shamelessly commercialized, vaguely religious day, and a sorry excuse for laziness, fake repentance and drunken shenanigans.  I won’t take any part in it.  Tomorrow, I’m just gonna enjoy my day alone, at the office, working hard while the rest of you sorry saps are off partying.  And you know what?  I’m not gonna miss it, not even for a second.  Because _Christmas…_ ”, Nick finished, spitting out the name like it was poison, “…means _nothing at all_ to me.  It never has, it doesn’t now, and it never will.  So no, I won’t go to your mom’s with you, I won’t pretend that I’m your friend or whatever the hell you think I am… I am not gonna indulge in something I don’t believe in.  And nothing you could do or say can convince me otherwise.”

 

“Nick…”  Now, finally, Ellis’ face had fallen – but even if Nick had been harsh and downright brutal, the hick continued to be slightly upbeat.  “Christmas ain’t mean nothin’ to ya?  H-how’s tha’ even possible?  Christmas means somethin’ tuh everyone, man!  Ah mean, yew have t’have _some_ nice memories ‘bout the holidays… maybe they’re jus’ deep down…”

 

Nick found the hopeful light in those big blue eyes to be the most irritating of all that had happened that day, and his next words were carefully chosen to snuff it out completely.  Turning to the hick he’d taken in, he spoke in a low, dangerously edged voice, his eyes narrowed and his gaze able to melt steel if he’d wanted.

 

“Ellis, the only thing that Christmas is to me, is a goddamn excuse to get some more money out of some poor sap that desperately needs a present for the holidays, for someone that only pretends to love him or her because of abandonment issues or for convenience or for sex… the entire concept disgusts me.  At least I don’t pretend.  At least I’m honest.  And I suggest that if you want to keep your job over the holiday season, you stop trying to assume things about me.”

 

“Y’ain’t bein’ honest if’n yeh deny feelin’ _anythin_ ’-“, Ellis started, but now his employer had had enough.  Ellis’ stubborn refusal to let the subject rest was that final push his overwrought nerves needed to go into an angry outburst.

 

“Okay, I have had it up to _here_ with you, Ellis!  Go pack a bag and get the hell out of my house.  You’re fired.  Tomorrow, you can come clear out your apartment for my next handyman.  Now get out of my face!”  Now, finally, Ellis’ eyes became sad rather than defiantly optimistic, and the hick’s breath hitched for a second before he stammered in response.

 

“B-bu-but Nick…!”

 

“ _I said go!!_ ”, the business man barked, tense in every fiber of his being – and whether out of fear for Nick actually hitting him or because he finally admitted defeat, the hick moved past him, shoulders shaking slightly, and as soon as the door to his rooms closed, Nick sighed, walking upstairs to his own living room and closing the door.  Why the hick had to be such a pest at times, he didn’t know – he never seemed to want to lay off him, always trying to get him upset by being so damn needy and clingy, it seemed – but now, at least, he wouldn’t have to put up with that anymore.

 

Nick sighed in satisfaction, sitting down in his sofa and pouring himself a straight whisky from the bottle and glass he kept on a tray on the small table next to him, always within reach.  The hick got what was coming to him – really, it was a miracle Nick hadn’t fired him sooner, Ellis being obnoxious and overly nosy, and besides, employing someone you met in a _bar_ … it was ridiculous anyway…

 

And that heavy, sinking feeling he got, that was just the thought of having to go through the entire process of hiring a handyman again, definitely not the thought of actually missing that annoying hick…

 

 

 

“M-momma?  Yeah, ‘s Ellis… l-listen, can ah… stay over tuhnight?  Ah’ll sleep on yer couch… ‘s jus’… N-Nick fired me an’ tha’ means ah’m outta a place tuh stay…”, Ellis said softly later that evening, and his mother’s answer came through the receiver a bit scratchily.

 

“ _…Why, sure, Ellis, dahlin’… did… did somethin’ else happen?  Ah mean, not tha’ ah liked that Nick guy, but… yeh sound upset, an’ ah c’n tell yew’ve been cryin’…_ ”

 

“…M-momma, ‘s all okay, ah’m okay… jus’…”   Ellis sighed and his mother recognized the silence that followed for what it was.  When she spoke up again, her voice was soft and soothing.

 

“… _Ah’ll be expectin’ yew then.  Drive safely.  An’ Ellis… t-try not tuh let tha’ Nick feller git to yeh, okay?  He ain’t worth yer trouble.  Man ain’t got no heart ‘t all…_ ”, she said, and after they’d said their goodbyes, Ellis caught himself looking up – not randomly, but deliberately.  Up there, Nick sat or slept – unburdened by the emotions he’d labeled as ‘weak’ and ‘fake’ before.

 

And suddenly, Ellis realized why he wasn’t angry with his ex-boss, or why he didn’t feel betrayed or hurt as much anymore.  He _pitied_ the man, _pitied_ his lack of insight.  To some, Christmas held value because of some Christian tradition, stamped in or chosen voluntarily.  To others, Christmas was worth celebrating because of the connection with friends, family, and loved ones.  But to Nick, all the festive day was, was a way to make an extra buck.  Another day in the endless row of days.  Ellis pitied that bleak life the man had to be living.  So before he walked out of the door, he halted at the staircase and, touching the wooden banister his boss had so frequently run his hand over, he whispered, eyes closed and voice reverent.  A prayer for his boss, seeing as he wouldn’t.

 

“…God, ah dunno if’n yew are list’nin’, but ‘s Ellis.  Ellis Mason.  Ah ain’t never asked yew fer much favors, God.  Ah b’lieve in makin’ things work fer yerself.  But now… mah boss, Nick… ah can’t help ‘im.  Ah can’t… ah tried tuh help him but he don’t want…  God, please… if’n yew c’n save any sinner, redeem any soul, no matter how lost… Nick’s worth savin’.  Ah have faith in ‘im.  Ah believe tha’, deep down, he’s got somethin’ good.  …A-an’ ah…  yew know mah heart, God, ain’t no use denyin’ it.  Yew c’n smite me if’n ah displease yeh by lovin’ Nick, but please, save ‘im.”  His prayer finished, Ellis opened his eyes again, sighing as he looked up to the dark first floor.  Nick would probably be asleep by now.  “…Goodbye, Nick… ah… jus’ wish yew’d see how much yeh hurt me by turnin’ me away…”, he said softly, and then, he turned on his heels and walked out the door.  Maybe it was for the best that he got fired, he mused.  It’d been a painful time living so close to the man he’d instantly fallen in love with – at least now he could get through the day without wishing his heart would finally break.  Nick would never love him as he loved the man with his eternal white suit.  And now that he was going away from him again, maybe he could start accepting that truth.  That painful, horrible, heartbreaking truth.

 

 

 

In the middle of the night, Nick woke up.  His bedroom was freezing cold – though he was sure he’d switched both his heater and his electric blanket on before going to bed, and he was sure they both worked as the room and the bed had been toasty when he dozed off.  Now, however, every exhale was visible in the light of the crescent moon outside – the neon version, at least, from the nightshop next door to his home.

 

“What the hell’s happening?”, Nick wondered, his voice soft and the breath issuing a soft cloud of vapor from his mouth.  For a second, Nick contemplated staying in bed, refusing to give up the warmth accumulated under the sheets – but the cold had started to permeate even his three layers of blankets, and the realization that even his warmth would be stolen away made Nick toss back the covers and move out of his bed to switch on both his heater and the electric blanket again, confident that there’d just been a power outage and the items hadn’t automatically started again.

 

But just as he stood bent over his heater to find the on/off switch at the back, he heard a noise downstairs.  And, adding that to the fact that the heater didn’t have an on/off switch and thus something else was keeping it from being powered, he came to the only logical conclusion.

 

“Ellis…”  He gritted his teeth – hadn’t the dumb hick heard him before, when he’d turned him out?  Did he think he’d been joking?  Nick put on his purple velvet housecoat and trudged out onto the landing, quickly making his way down the stairs to the hick’s apartments through the cold hallway.  There, he listened intently for any sound of the mechanic’s – and sure enough, there was a sound like rustling cloth coming from within, and Nick groaned, anger rising within him swiftly and overwhelmingly like a tidal wave.  Opening the door briskly, he stepped inside.  “Ellis, what the-“  However, he stopped – not only his words halted, but he himself did as well, the anger flowing away again just as swiftly as it had risen, and his body freezing mid-stride.

 

In the middle of the room stood a man dressed like Ellis – from the trucker cap down to the grease- and dirt-stained coveralls.  The only thing that was different was the shirt: it wasn’t Ellis’ ‘Bull Shifters’ shirt but a plain white sleeveless shirt.  The stranger looked every bit like Ellis, too: from his messy brown hair down to his bright blue eyes.  Almost every detail, from the hick’s clefted chin to the tribal tattoo on his arm, shitty lines and faded blue in the middle and all.  In fact, the only difference between the actual hick and this guy was the lack of scars.

 

But then the ruffling sound echoed again in the room and Nick noticed two other, very large, white-feathered differences emerging from behind the man, unfurling like a feathered cape.  _Wings._

_A goddamn angel_.

 

“Nicolas Masters, I see your heart and I see your thoughts.  ‘Goddamn’ is hardly the word to describe me.”, the angel boomed, and Nick cringed.  What was he supposed to do now?  Why was-  “I have come to you answering a plea from a devout soul who believes you are not too far gone for redemption.”  Wait, too far gone?  Gone where?  “Into the realm of sin and debauchery, naturally, Nicolas.”, the angel answered his thoughts, and Nick sighed again.

 

“Look-“

 

“Show me no disrespect, Nicolas, I could take you to the depths of Hell if I so wished.  But this devout soul pleaded with me for your salvation and I rarely let the good down.  To answer your question, I am Michael, the Archangel of Struggle and of Redemption.”  That tempted a soft, surprised ‘oh’ out of the con man.  Of course he’d heard of the archangels – Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, and Uriel – but why would an _archangel_ respond to a prayer?  And who would-  Again, Michael reacted to his thoughts before he even voiced them.

 

“You must be far down that road to perdition, to believe none would pray for your soul’s redemption.  But even when lost, all you must do is want to be found again, and an angel with my powers can pull you back from certain doom.  All human souls are born a pure white, after all.  However, if you do not want to be found… if sin has too tight a hold on you… then you are forever lost to my ilk.  For sin stains the soul, and with time those stains infect a spirit, like a parasite, feeding on it and devouring it.”

 

“What’s that got to do with me?”, Nick asked, already knowing the answer, he realized – and when the angel chuckled, he considered the possibility that that was why Michael had allowed him to actually finish his question for once.

 

“Your soul is stained heavily, and corruption has started to seep into your spirit like a parasite, eating away at it and diminishing you, feeding on what you are.  And yet I came… you know why?”

 

“Because it’s not too late for me, right?”  The archangel merely nodded, looking so eerily like his ex-employee that Nick sighed, speaking up again.  “…Well, sorry to disappoint you, but it is.  I don’t wanna be saved.”

 

“Nicolas, how funny is it that your lips move to form words to deter me, to dissuade me, but your thoughts speak much louder that message of despair and of hope beyond hope.  …All human beings deserve to be loved, to be offered a chance at correcting their mistakes.  I am here to offer you yours.  Tonight, you will be visited thrice.  Three times you will see someone stand beside your bed as you open your eyes, and three times you’ll not have heard a single footstep of theirs.  Three times they will show you all that you are, all that you can be, all that you used to be.  They will show you the things you lost and the things you stand to gain… but only if you wish to change.  Only then will the stains of sin lose their hold on your everlasting soul.  If you manage this change… then you’ll be redeemed.  If you don’t… then not even I can still manage to pull you ouf of the Abyss…”, he said, and Nick sighed, looking at his feet for the longest time, unable to decide between telling the man to take a hike or agreeing with the hair-brained idea.  In the end, Nick nodded.

 

“I-“

 

“I know this seems to you to be idiotic, and yet, here I am, a being you did not think existed until now.  What harm could there be in following three spirits sent by myself?  …O ye of little faith…”, the archangel said, his chuckle a pretty spot-on impression of the hick’s, and Nick found himself wondering whether that one ‘devout soul’ was actually that naïve hick.  Yet, just as he wanted to ask, he heard a sound like a rush of air and the archangel was gone.  The house was dark and quiet again, but he knew that now, his room would be warm and inviting again, his bed toasty as it’d been before.  The angel’s words were still ringing in his ears, but Nick pushed them aside.  A hallucination, brought on by lack of sleep and overindulgence in whisky… yeah, that had to be it, Nick mused.

 

“ _At one in the morning, the first spirit will come.  Also, a hallucination, Nicolas?  How very original…”_   The words sounded in his head as if they’d been whispered directly into his brain, and Nick jumped back, nearly falling down as he stumbled over the sofa.  The clock in Ellis’ room indicated midnight – one hour to go, Nick mused before pushing the thought aside again, or at least trying to.  But this time, it wasn’t as easy.  How could he dismiss this as a mere hallucination now?

 

Nick moved dazedly up the stairs again, to his own rooms, settling down into his bed again.  The warmth was soothing, and soon the worries about whether or not it was all a trick of his mind or not fell away into a blissful darkness, a void without dreams or thoughts.  A void that swallowed him whole, a void that brought him peace…

 

A void he woke up from slowly to the sound of a lullaby, feeling warm and comfortable in every fiber of his being.

 

_“Hush little angel, cry no more… your mother stands ready at the door… ready with comfort and ready with song… ready for you the whole day long…”_   The voice was just as he remembered it: deep and slightly wheezy, nasal, and thoroughly comforting.  Opening one eye, he saw that smiling face, wrinkled and yet worry-free, like an imprint of happier days, a happier life… and Nick’s heart skipped a beat or two.  She was exactly as he remembered her, down to the single streak of black in her otherwise grey hair.  But the last time he’d seen her… he’d been sure it was the last time he would ever see her.  She’d been dying.  As far as he knew, she _had_ died.  So this…  It couldn’t be.  It wasn’t possible.

 

“M-Mom?”

 

******

 

“Mom?  Oh god, mom?  H-how… how is this-?”, Nick stammered, sitting up in the bed, one hand over his heart and the other clenching the bedsheets as if they were the only solid thing in the room.  His mother gave a soft smile and nodded, motioning for the clock.

 

_“Oh, Nicky… how have you ever become what you always said you wouldn’t?  How did your heart turn so cold?  Is that kind and caring boy, that gentle-spirited young man I last saw… is he buried so deep?  …I’ve been sent to you with a mission, Nick, my darling… to take a look at days long gone…  Step out of bed and follow me.”_   Nick complied, tossing back the covers and stepping to his mother after pulling on his slippers and his housecoat again – and with one touch to his forehead she had the world spinning around them, the house falling away to make room for-

 

“…T-this is…”

 

_“Our old home, yes… you still remember it?”_ , she said, sounding mildly surprised, and Nick nodded.

 

“Of course I do – mom, I spent twenty-two years of my life here, d’you really think I’d forget that, ever?”, Nick said, sounding a bit upset, and his mother shook her head.

 

_“Of course not, Nicky…  In fact, I brought you here because I knew you’d not forget… now come inside, let’s see if you remember this moment, too…”_   She moved her arm forward, her smile the same smile he remembered her having when he came home with a promising report card.  They moved inside, not walking but rather the scenery moving around them – and inside, Nick took one look around before gasping in recognition.

 

“T-this… this is the first Christmas I can remember!”, he said softly, and his mother nodded.  “…I can… I can still remember what I got… and uncle Vinnie let me taste eggnog and I hated it…”

 

_“Your first real Christmas, too… before this moment, you were too young to appreciate the magic of it, the miracle of the holiday.  Look at yourself…”_ , she said, motioning for the little boy sitting in front of the richly decorated Christmas tree, looking at the gift in his hands with large, round, wonder-filled eyes.  Nick nodded, speaking word for word the words he spoke as a child – the words the child-version of himself was saying that very same moment.

 

“…Mommy, mommy, Santa gave me that race car, from the movie daddy showed me!  An’ it’s red, too, just like the race car in the movie!”

 

“Oh, yes, Nicky, it’s beautiful!  Santa knew just what you wished for, huh?”, the memory of his mother said, her eyes sparkling with joy – of course, now, years later, that made sense, but then it was a sign that his mother was happy for him, a childish translation of an adult’s secret smile.  From the corner of the room, his uncle Vinnie spoke up loudly, raising a glass of fruit juice.  He didn’t remember the words anymore after all those years, so he didn’t hear them, but he remembered his mother’s small giggle and her picking him up.  “…Nicky, why don’t you go show your new race car to your baby sister?  ‘Nita’s probably going to love it just as much as you do!”

 

“Mommy, girls don’t love cars!”, he said, sounding affronted like only a five-year-old could be upon hearing an adult say something they perceived as ‘silly’.  Nick chuckled upon hearing the childish simplicity in those words, and it wasn’t a bitter sound.

 

_“You were so happy with something so simple then…”_ , the ghost of Nick’s mother said, smiling a melancholy smile and looking at him with weary eyes – an expression he’d seen often enough on her in his later years of life, and a stark contrast to the unreserved, joyful smile his mother had had on that Christmas morning so many years ago.  However, she smiled more broadly again as she waved her hand, and the scenery around them shifted in a blur.  The room changed minimally, but the people inside it did.  Instead of a memory-version of himself at five, he was twelve, and his mother and father both had the distinct signs of age on their features.  His father’s hair had diminished, his mother’s face bore more wrinkles.  But the biggest change was his sister.  Anita sat in the sofa, unwrapping her newest doll accessory, and Nick stood a ways to the side, speaking softly to his mother.  Again, Nick remembered the conversation word for word.

 

“…Mom, it’s stupid!”, Nick said, and his mother rolled her eyes.  “None of the kids in my class enter in the nativity play of their community anymore, that stuff’s for babies… no one even believes in Santa anymore, so this is _all_ stupid!”  He crossed his arms and looked away, but his mother’s calm voice, patient and loving as always, made his posture soften.

 

“…Father Theodore said you’d make a great Joseph – he says, of all the kids in the neighborhood, you have the best-sounding voice and you act the most natural.  He believes you’ll do great.  I believe you’ll do great.  …If you’re afraid what the kids of your class are going to say, don’t be.  They don’t have your heart.  They don’t have your smarts.  If they give you a hard time, it’s only because secretly they envy you, because secretly they envy the way you can still feel the magic of something you don’t believe in…”

 

“I don’t believe in this, mom!”, his youthful version said, sounded affronted like only a young teenager can, trying desperately to maintain his ‘cool’, but as usually, his mother saw through all that, and her next words were spoken softly and conspiratorially.

 

“…If you don’t believe in it anymore, why do you keep telling your baby sister Santa will give her that Barbie dress she’s been looking at in the store for the past two months?  Why do you keep telling ‘Santa’ to buy her that dress?”  When Nick just stood speechless, staring at his mother, the knowing but loving look on her face made Nick’s heart ache for that moment.  It had been a simpler time – when all he worried about was the opinion of his classmates, the wellbeing of his sister, the love of his mother and father.  He sighed – and then, realizing she was still there, looked at his mother’s ghost apologetically.  But she nodded sagely and motioned for his younger self.

 

_“You don’t need to hide what you think or what you feel from me… I know you better than anyone has, better than anyone will, perhaps…  I know you miss that innocence now.”_

 

“…Well, yeah, but everyone has nostalgia like that.  What makes this so special?”  His mother smiled and waved her hand again and this time, they were in a completely different room, an empty room at that, dark and looking like it was rarely used.  Before he even had a chance to get his bearings, however, a familiarly annoying voice sounded.

 

“ _Nick_ , stop getting on my case!”  His sister walked in, her hair cut short and large golden earrings dangling from her ears.  She looked every bit the rebellious teenager she was then – envious of her older brother and his privileges, blind to the responsibilities that came with those privileges.  A younger version of him followed her – he was twenty, he knew, because when else had he indulged in cutting his hair like that?  “For God’s sake, you’re worse than mom or dad!”

 

“Anita, you’ve got to stop acting like a brat… I can’t keep bailing you out.  Seriously…  I had to ditch my friends to get you out of there.  Normally I’m not even home on Christmas Eve.  …You’re lucky mom and dad weren’t home when you called, or they’d have given you all kinds of hell-“

 

“Yeeeeaaaaah, I’m _so_ lucky my brother, who _just happens to have a stick up his ass_ -“, Anita cut him off, and he groaned.

 

“Anita, don’t you start with me, I didn’t bail you out of a mall holding cell to get talkback!  How the hell do you even get the idea to flash a mall cop?!”  He remembered it before it happened in front of his eyes: his sister’s cheeky grin, her faux-casual shrug, the hand on her hip, and then her answer.

 

“Jeez, what was I supposed to do?!  He was young and he had me for shopliftin’!  I had to try, didn’t I?”  Nick’s reaction was a dry snicker – but the memory-version of himself sighed disparagingly and shook his head.

 

“…Shoplifting, indecent exposure… you know that stuff like that goes in your criminal record, right?  Every future employer’ll be able to see what you did…”  His memory-version’s next words, however, were said with a soft grin, and they had his sister looking at him in shocked disbelief.  “Oh, yeah, and guess what?  Mom and dad weren’t home when you called, but they _were_ in the bank when I went to withdraw the money to pay your fine.  They know exactly what you did and they were _not_ amused.  And it so happens they let me decide how you’re going to be punished for what you did wrong.”  His sister blanched – the memory was clearer than he thought, because he thought he’d forgotten that soft gasp she let slip.

 

“Y-you…  _Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiick!  You totally called them, that’s so unfair!_ ”, she said, sounding utterly horrified, and he shook his head.

 

“I didn’t, I swear to God.  I just ran into them at the bank – they were in there making a deposit.  Apparently they deposit that money onto our savings accounts _manually_ every year.  And when they heard why I was there… well, let’s just say you’ll get a _real heart-warming_ welcome when they get home in about half an hour…  As for your punishment, I think I know just how to get you to _really feel_ how wrong shoplifting out of boredom is…  The community center’s organizing a hand-me-down collection drive day after tomorrow and guess what?  You just volunteered to go help from dawn till dusk.”  His sister groaned, and Nick looked at his mother’s ghostly image, as if to question what she meant by that memory, but she just pointed behind him.  He turned around to see the scene had changed completely around them – they were back inside the dining room, at the Christmas dinner, and his father’s words were spoken with a hint of that post-dinner satisfaction as the man leaned back.

 

“…Anita, you’ve got your hand-me-downs packed and ready for tomorrow?”

 

“ _Dad,_ geez, thanks for reminding me…”, his sister replied, and Nick meant to give her a scathing comment when his mother spoke up softly.

 

“…Anita, darling, indulge your dad… come on, you need to be ready for tomorrow, father Theodore said your help’s going to be more than welcome.  It’ll go by all the quicker and be all the more easy if you don’t think of it as punishment but as turning your back on a mistake…”, she suggested, and Anita paused.  Slowly, one of her eyebrows raised, and then she smiled and nodded.

 

“Yeah, that’s…  I’ll go pack…”  She rose from her chair and walked out of the room, into the hallway – and as soon as her footsteps sounded on the staircase, twenty year old Nick turned to his mother and spoke softly.

 

“…Mom, you said this’d be her punishment.  Why’re you telling her that it isn’t now?  It’s supposed to be hard on her…”  His mother’s answer came to the forefront of his mind again, word for word, but the fact that she’d put her hand on his or that her tone had been soft and bearing a note of pride had somehow slipped his mind over the years.

 

“Nick, darling, she’s making up for a mistake.  Yeah, it’s a punishment she’s going through, but does that mean she can’t get through it with a smile?  She’s going to sit there tomorrow, be bored, but at the end of the day she’s going to smile and say it wasn’t half bad.  And she’ll have learned a lot more than she would if she’d sat there feeling annoyed.  …And I think she needs her big brother to show some compassion, too…”, she said, and Nick rolled his eyes.

 

“Mom, I know – she’s a teenager, she’s making mistakes and being stupid and… I did, too, I mean, I don’t think anyone’s ever going to forget the time you had to get me at the ER drunk out of my mind after a birthday party at Jimmy Jones’…  I made mistakes in my life, and I’ll probably make a lot more, but-“

 

“But you shouldn’t look at the mistakes your sister has made, or any of the mistakes she will make.  You should look at what she’s willing to do to make up for them instead of letting those mistakes haunt her for the rest of her life.  Because if you keep pointing them out, she’s not going to be able to leave them behind…”

 

“She shouldn’t leave them behind!”, Nick said, now sounding affronted, and his mother sighed, withdrawing her hand and shaking her head softly.

 

“…Only if you can leave a mistake behind, Nick, is it truly and well forgiven.”  Nick knew what had happened all too well, and he sighed, turning away from the scene.

 

“Mom, why are you showing me this?  I didn’t make mistakes…  I wasn’t the one to-“  His mother’s ghostly appearance nodded and spoke softly.

 

_“You heard my words earlier, Nick?  Only if you can leave a mistake behind is it truly and well forgiven…  I have one more memory to show you, one more moment you need to revisit and truly appreciate for what it can mean to you today…  and this moment is unlike the others.”_

“Oh, how so?”, Nick asked – but then the scenery around him and the ghostly version of his mother changed in a mighty blur of colour – and when it stopped shifting, Nick realized what made the moment different.  It was a different room, a different house… _his own house._

Which meant that the moment he was seeing…

 

“Nick, love, come sit down with me for a second!  The dishes can wait!”  It was the soft voice of Katie, his first wife.  Nick closed his eyes and turned away, to his mother.

 

“ _Really?_   You _had_ to show me a memory of my first ex?  That bitch-“

 

_“Nicolas Dean Masters, mind your tongue!   I don’t care that she was the worst thing that ever happened to you, don’t you ever use that kind of language with me!”_ , his mother said, and Nick winced – she’d never had to raise a hand in real life to make him fearful, and now, in her ghostly form, her power over him with a single word or her tone of voice had not waned one bit.  He opened his eyes again and the scene continued as if it’d been paused during his exchange with his mother.  He watched himself – dressed in jeans and a cosy sweater, which he hadn’t worn for years anymore, and with his hair in that horrible cut that was the reason he’d been ridiculed for for three years after that date – sit down next to his wife, nestling himself cozily against her and smiling at her.

 

“Kate, that was delicious.  I think you managed to show up my mom with that dessert… man, my dad looked like he’d seen heaven when you brought that apple pie in.”, he added, chuckling lightly, and she answered with a soft laugh of her own.

 

“Well, I hope my parents are going to like their dessert tomorrow night… you’re still okay with cooking?  I mean, you’ve got to go in to work in the morning, right?”, she asked, and Nick nodded, sighing and rolling his eyes.

 

“Yeah… my boss has this weird notion that I’ve ‘got to learn to make sacrifices for the job’…  I’m sorry, love.  But I’ll manage the cooking just fine.  Wouldn’t dream of disappointing you or your parents.”  His memory-version then yawned and stretched.  “…So, Katie…  now that our guests have gone back to their own cosy home and our day is done…”, he said, his voice trailing away, and his wife caught his meaning perfectly, turning a bit to kiss him lightly.

 

“…if you’re hoping that I’ve still got energy after cooking _and_ tending to the needs of our guests _and_ making sure the house is as clean as it is now, Nick, then you’ve got another thing coming…”  However, when he kissed her again, just as lightly as they’d kissed before, she giggled and turned around completely so they lay side by side in the sofa.  “…Nick, come on, stop foolin’ around…”, she said lightly, and Nick looked her over with a grin before sighing.

 

“…Yeah, I suppose I should stop fooling around…  I mean, I’ll need my energy to cook tomorrow…”  It was said teasingly, and the reaction he got was a playful shove and then a more insistent push as his wife got off the couch and walked to the table, starting to clear off the plates.  He watched her for a few seconds and then joined her, taking the empty bowls and the one dirty ladle that still lay on a serving tray and carrying them into the kitchen.  Nick and his mother followed them – Nick mildly bemused as well as overwhelmingly uncomfortable with the prolonged confrontation with a part of his past he’d done his best to forget, and his mother still bearing that patient, loving smile she’d had since he’d first opened his eyes to see her standing by his bedside.  Inside the kitchen, the memory-version of himself had just finished putting the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, smiling fondly at his wife – Nick resisted the urge to turn away again, knowing his mother’s ghost was more than capable to force him to watch it.

 

“…Seriously, Nick…  I swear you’re too good for me.  You’re too sweet, too loveable…”, Kate admitted, leaning against him as he looked out the kitchen window for a bit, admiring the snowy expanse of their back yard.  “…too hot…”  She smiled up at him, and he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her against him gently.

 

“No, you are too good for me, Katie, but I’m glad you settled for me.  With me.”  Her reply was a soft snort and a kiss on his lips that was light and yet longing, and when they parted again, both looking at their backyard without seeing.  “…You know what’d make this even more perfect?”, she said, and Nick chuckled.

 

“If you’re going to say ‘a dog’, I swear I’m letting _you_ do the cooking.”  But when she didn’t answer, the memory version of Nick nodded softly and leaned his head against hers, kissing her cheek and speaking up softly again: “…I know.  And I want that too.  We’ll just have to keep trying, okay?  Just because it won’t work doesn’t mean we have to give up courage…”

 

“…Yeah…”, Kate answered, and unlike the later replies to his attempted optimism, which were just a deep, incredulous sighed ‘yes, Nick’ or an annoyed, impatient groan, it still sounded hopeful.  The memory faded around Nick and his mother now, and Nick blinked.

 

_“I know what happened later.  I know how unfair it was, how cruel and resentful she turned on you, how painfully you were betrayed.  I know that you turned cold three years later, when her Christmas gift to you was divorce papers along with a picture of her together with the man that had given her what she hadn’t gotten from you…  It’s enough to make any man scorn Christmas forever…”_   The tone of that ghostly voice was soothing and empathic, and Nick sighed.  He spoke – slowly, softly, his heart hurting with every word he formed in his mind and yet relief flooding him with every sound that fell from his lips.

 

“…Kate and I did try for over three years.  I should’ve known that something was wrong when year two was just as unsuccessful as year one.  I should’ve let the doctor test us both.  She turned so cold and distant on me… I tried to understand, tried to pull us through it…  When she became pregnant, I was actually overjoyed, can you believe it?  I was just so happy that it’d finally worked.  And then…  Jesus, just thinking about it hurts.  ...Why’d you bring this up again?  It only brings back the worst damn days of my life.”

 

“ _Because, Nicky, those days were not all bad.  Not every day was hurtful.  There was happiness, too, especially in the beginning.  And though she betrayed you in the worst ways, stepped on your heart with cruel intentions, if you refuse to let go of that hurt you’ll allow her to continue tormenting you.  You’ve already allowed yourself to become so cold… you’ve already allowed the one heartbreak you felt to turn you into the one to break hearts… but you can still turn back.  You still felt that happiness here, you still saw that joy.  You still appreciate all of these days.  Let go of the bad, hold onto the good…”_ However, Nick sighed and shook his head.

 

“Mom, you’re great and I love you… but you’ve never been heartbroken like that.  I turned cold, yeah.  I did some things after that that I’m not proud of, maybe… but anyone would do that.  Anyone’d be hurt.  And what if I push people away?  That way, they can’t hurt me, and I don’t hurt them-“  But even as Nick spoke, his heart gave off a different message.

 

_‘…they can’t hurt me and if they get hurt, it’s for their own good… love only hurts and the sooner the rest of the world learns that, the better…’_

_“I can see what’s in that heart of yours, Nick.  I can see that even the permanent frost you’ve put into it doesn’t take away that it’s still got lots of room for love.  I can see that it’s still hurting, still waiting for the right kind of touch to heal… and all I ask is that you consider unthawing it, maybe a little…”_

 

“No.”, Nick said, his voice solemn, but at the same time hesitant and most of all defensive.  And when he looked at his mother, he knew he was maybe forming the sounds for ‘no’ but his heart was not in that word at all.  “I… No.”

 

_“…All I ask is that you consider, Nicky…”_ , his mother said, and suddenly Nick felt the world spinning around him, so much so that he took a step forward-

 

-and his eyes flew open as he sat up in bed.  The clock struck one down the stairs and his pillow felt clammy.  His mother was nowhere to be seen, but her voice sounded in his ears one last time.

 

_“Don’t let the past ruin the present, Nick, my darling.  Even if you think marrying Kate was a mistake, with which I don’t agree, accept the fact and move on, but don’t dwell on it forever.  And please, don’t let that wounded heart of you stop you from opening it to someone… because the next person you let in there might well be the last person you ever need to let in there…  Sleep now, because in an hour, you’ll get another visitor.  Someone to show you all you risk to lose and all you stand to gain if you let go of your fear of other people and of love…”_   The room and his mind were then quiet again, and Nick barely needed a minute before he dozed off again, this time to tumultuous dreams in which his first wife suddenly didn’t look entirely like a cold-hearted, conniving bitch anymore and in which the ‘favor’ he did his second wife by cheating on her and giving her an ‘excuse’ to leave him became all the more cold-hearted on his part… dreams mixed with images of himself as he was younger, and his life brighter, his dreams filled with golden glows.

 

Dreams from which he woke by a gentle touch across his cheek.  His eyes fluttered open and he blinked when the ghostly figure in front of him didn’t seem familiar in the way his mother had.  Instead she looked like a grandmother – only he hadn’t ever known his grandmothers, both of them having passed away before he was born.  Something about her was familiar, though: the round shape of her face, her cheeks and reddened nose, the crow’s feet around her eyes that were a telltale sign of a woman that had aged smiling…

 

But it was the dress – deep red and heavy, the hems of the the sleeves and the bottom of the skirt lined with fur – that gave it away in the end, and he rolled his eyes.

 

“ _Of course_ the second ghost that comes to see me has to be Mrs. Santa Claus…”

 

*****

 

_“Well, Nicolas, love, if were expecting someone else, I’m sorry to disappoint… but you’re stuck with me now…”_ , the elderly lady said, her voice slightly wheezy and light in tone, and Nick rolled his eyes.

 

“Well, someone a little easier on the eyes would’ve been nice, for one…”, he spoke, actually more frustrated at being woken up than at the ghost itself, and even then it was hard to label the feeling as ‘frustration’ instead of ‘utter confusion’ with the warmth permeating his being.  It was as if someone had given him a big mug of mulled wine: a heat spreading from the inside out, and a feeling of contentment that came along with it, as if he’d eaten a copious meal instead of some leftovers he still had in the fridge, not wanting to confront Ellis again.

 

_“…Is this a bit better then, darling?”_ , she spoke again.  He looked up at her again in surprise as the sound of her voice was completely different – suave, pleasant, filled with energy – only to see that the woman had changed in appearance as well.  Gone was the elderly lady – in her stead stood a woman that looked like she could’ve modeled for Victoria’s Secret that very second, all perfect sized, lightly tanned skin, almond-shaped eyes and soft, full lips.  The dress had taken a youth treatment as well, as it was strapless and the heavy fabric had turned to light, shimmering silk, with the fur being fake.  Nick actually had to blink and shifted in his bed slightly to hide his sudden unease.  She gave a bright smile and nodded, her long black hair swaying slightly as she did so. _“…I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.  Good, glad that’s out of the way.  Now, shall we?”_ , she said, offering her arm to him.  Nick got out of bed and put on his housecoat again, but he didn’t move to hold her offered arm yet.  Instead, he looked at her in slightly wary apprehension and spoke the question on his mind softly.

 

“…Where are you taking me?  I mean, my mom came before you, and-“

 

_“Your mother’s spirit showed you what you needed to see, and so will I.  Only she showed you the past and what it meant to the person you became.  I will show you no scars of days long gone, Nick, darling... instead, I’ll show you today, and what your cold and callous actions cause…  Now take my arm, Nick, the sooner we leave, the better.”_   Nick still felt apprehensive, but he did place his hand gently on the woman’s offered arm, and the world blurred around them.  When the surroundings became clear again, Nick was surprised to see himself stand in an unfamiliar neighborhood.  It was a downtown home – a house in a housing project, clearly, one of many just like it, small and simple, with just enough room on the driveway to place a small car.  Like the others, it was happily decorated with cheap lights and some holly hanging over the door, a Christmas wreath hanging over the mailbox jauntily.  Nick blinked and turned to his ghostly companion.

 

“…Where is this?  And how could this possibly-“, he started, only to be cut off by the woman standing beside him.

 

_“This house belongs to Ellen Tanner.”_ , she said, smiling at him.  _“But it’s not her we’re here to see…”_

 

“Then why?”, Nick asked, only to stop talking as she motioned for one of the cars that turned into the driveway.  He recognized the car instantly, since it’d been parked on his own curb for too long: a rusty, battered white pick-up truck with an engine that roared like a lion as it fired up.  The rear of it was stowed full with various items – Nick could discern a lampshade, a rolled-up carpet and a rocking chair – and when it stopped in front of the house, Ellis got out.  “…Hey, what’s…”, Nick said, looking surprised by the way his former employee moved, and his ghostly companion gave a sad sigh.

 

_“You’ve hurt this young man, Nick, with your cold behavior.”_

 

“Well, I’m sure he can take an argument, I mean-“, Nick started, but the woman shook her head.

 

_“You don’t understand.  You see his sadness but you don’t understand it – which, of course, is a bit understandable.  If you understood his sadness, if you knew why he was looking so pained, then we wouldn’t be here.  Then there would be no need for you to be here at all.  …No, just watch.  Just see how deep his pain goes.  Just see how much of an effect you have on this young man’s life.”_ , she said finally, as Ellis took out one last box from his pick-up and took it into the house.  Nick and the ghostly Miss Santa followed, passing through the door just as it closed and entering the cozily decorated home of Ellis’ mother, the hallway of which was stowed full of boxes.  The scent of something being roasted slowly hung heavy in the air, accompanying the warmth of the place nicely.

 

“…Ellis, dahlin’, ‘s this the last’a yer stuff then?”  Ellis’ mom was just as Nick expected her to be: slightly younger than his own mother had been at the time of her death ten years before, with warm eyes and a warm voice, and with a smile that instantly made the hick smile too.  Yet the smile, Nick was somewhat surprised to see, was distant and watery, not at all like the smiles Ellis had usually displayed whenever he noticed Nick coming in.

 

“Yeah, momma.  ‘S the last.  …Ah can’’ b’lieve Nick ac’shully threw me outta mah ‘partment.  Ah can’t believe Nick fired me… all over somethin’ so stupid…”

 

“Oh, now come on, Ellis, it’s _Nick Masters_ we’re talking about…”, came a voice from further inside the small, quaint home, and that voice, too, was familiar to Nick.  And sure enough, the next moment his tenant, Bob Tanner, came in.  “He’s got no heart.  I mean, he’s probably typing up and signing a termination of contract notice as we speak for me being late with the rent for the garage…”

 

“Naw, uncle Bobby, y’ain’t right.  Nick ain’t heartless, he’s jus’…  Ah dunno, he’s a businessman ah s’pose.  He needs his money.  Yeh can’’ say he didn’t give yeh no chances – if’n he didn’t have no heart, he would’a chucked yeh out when yer rent was due f’r jus’ one day…”, Ellis said, standing tall as Bob – his uncle, Nick now knew – looked at him in surprise.

 

“Ell, really?  The man fired you over telling him _Christmas is important-_ “, the man said, and again Ellis responded, this time cutting his uncle off.

 

“Nick fired me ‘cause he wanted tuh.  He prob’ly was tired’a me for a long time ‘fore yestehday too – he jus’ used tha’ Christmas thing as kinduh ‘the las’ straw’.  A-an’ ah’m kind’f glad fer tha’ – ‘s a lot nicer tuh think he fired me ‘cause ah was invadin’ his personal space than it is tuh think he fired me ‘cause ah got on ‘is nerves constantly.  But even if’n tha’ was the case… Ah’ve gotta ‘cept his reasons fer firin’ me even if’n ah don’’ like ‘em.”  Ellis turned to his mother with a sigh and meant to speak up when another, less familiar, voice issued from the basement.

 

“Misses Tanner, misteh Tanner, y’all sure ‘bout tha’ fuse blowin’?  ‘Cause ah’ve checked ev’ry damn fusebox down ‘ere an’ there ain’t no fuses blown.”  It was the hick mechanic that had come up to Nick’s office that day – Keith, he remembered vaguely – his red hair and face covered with smears of thick grime and his loose plaid shirt and torn jeans covered in a layer of dust and something that Nick was sure did not belong in a healthy basement.  When he noticed the tension in the room, he blinked and rubbed his nose, spreading more grime over his face in the process, and turned to Ellis.  “Ell, bro, wha’’s goin’ on?  Y’all look like yeh’ve seen a ghost…”  Ellis just sighed and shrugged, and Nick recognized that gesture – he’d seen it too often before, mostly when he asked Ellis (impatiently, mind, and never without that tone of exasperation) what was wrong.  However, the other hick didn’t let the clear dismissal stop him, and he turned his gaze on Ellis’ mother and uncle next, and of course Bob Tanner supplied the reason for Ellis’ unease eagerly.

 

“We were just talking about Nick-“, he said, and instantly the other mechanic cut him off, frowning deeply.

 

“Tha’ man’s a damn disgrace.  He ain’t got no heart – not only’s he not givin’ yew more time tuh git tha’ money, Bob, but he’s turned out Ellis jus’ like that.”  The final word was accentuated with a snap of his fingers, and Ellis sighed, this time more exasperatedly.

 

“Look, Keith, uncle Bob, ‘s real nice tha’ yeh wanna defend me an’ that yeh wan’ make me feel better ‘bout all this, but… ‘s not gon’ work, okay?  ‘Specially not if’n yeh go ‘round insultin’ Nick.  He didn’t do nothin’ wrong.  He maybe ain’t done things right, yeah, but he ain’t doin’ nothin’ wrong either.  He fired me – he’s got ev’ry right to do tha’.  He kicked me outta mah apartment in his home – ‘s still his home, an’ the apartment came with the job, so he’s allowed tuh turn me out.  …Naw, y’all wanna make me feel better, then yeh’d better help me find some place else tuh live an’ work… ah don’’ wanna bother my momma none-“

 

“Ellis, dahlin’, how many times do ah gotta tell yeh, y’ain’t botherin’ me…”, Ellis’ mom said, and suddenly Nick had a foreboding feeling.  The way she reached out to her son was… different somehow.  It wasn’t like his own mother had reached to him.  The understanding between a mother and a grown child was absent, it was… more clingy, more dependent.  And Ellis’ next words explained it for a part.

 

“Momma, yew say tha’, but yeh need tuh find someone tuh share yer life with ‘gain after poppa’s death.  A-an’ ‘s long as ah’m livin’ with yeh, yew can’t.  So…”  Keith and Bob looked a bit uncomfortable, but the hick’s next words were chosen carefully to lift that awkwardness from the room.  “…But ‘s not the righ’ time or place tuh be talkin’ ‘bout things like that!  Momma, how’s yer Christmas roast ham comin’ ‘long?”

 

“Oh, Ellis, dahlin’…”, his mother said softly, complete with exhale and soft shake of her head.  “Yew had t’go an’ get the ham… ah jus’ _knew_ yeh’d forget…”  Ellis’ soft curse made Nick smile softly and shake his head as well – it reminded him of the times when he’d had to remind the hick that he needed to fix something when the hick had been overly enthusiastic about dinner, or that the hick had to make him dinner when he’d spent his day doing meaningless chores for him.  Ellis was just like that.  However, when he looked at the ghostly woman standing next to him, her knowing smile didn’t make him feel any good, so he carefully turned his expression neutral again.

 

“Oh gawd, momma, ah completely forgot what with me movin’ outta Nick’s apartments… ah… shit, ah…  How can ah-“

 

“Don’t yew worry, Ellis, yer mom figured yew’d be distracted ‘n all, an’ she sent me tuh Cole’s butcher shot tuh git it for her.”, Keith said with a broad grin, and the hick sighed in relief.

 

“Man, thanks, Keith… if’n ah didn’t have friends like yew, ah’d be lost…”  Keith nodded, and then nodded his head towards the kitchen.

 

“Misses Tanner, ah think y’all c’n continue cookin’.  Ah didn’t found no blown fuse nowhere, ‘s maybe jus’ the light in yer oven tha’ blew out…  Mind if’n ah go an’ wash up now?”, he asked – Nick blinked, because the hick couldn’t possibly mean using Ellis’ mother’s bathroom, but then she nodded and the hick moved upstairs, and Nick suppressed a shudder.

 

_“Nick, stay focused… it’s not about you right now, it’s about Ellis and the way you affect him_...” _,_ the woman standing next to him said softly, and Nick looked at her as he spoke up again, his voice and his entire body language showing confusion.

 

“Yeah, you say that, but… but there’s nothing wrong, clearly.  Ellis defended me, so how is he upset over what happened?  He said he understands, he said I’m not in the wrong…  I’m sorry, but I fail to see what I could’ve possibly done to impact the hick’s life apart from the obvious.  And yeah, I forced him to live with his mom again, who apparently doesn’t really have a healthy relationship with her adult son, but how is that my fault?”

 

_“Oh, Nicolas… how you fail to see that there’s more to cause and effect, to action and reaction, than just the effects and the reactions you see…”_ , the young woman said, shaking her head and smiling amusedly before nudging her head to the living room again – and Nick was surprised to see that while they talked, time had fast-forwarded in the vision, clearly – the table had been set and dinner had come and gone, the four present in the house having already moved on to the dessert and the after-dinner drinks – Bob had a large brandy in front of him, while Keith and Ellis both indulged in a cold Christmas beer.

 

“…So, Ellis…”, Keith said – and from the sound of his voice, slurring so obviously that only a deaf man wouldn’t notice, it was clear that the beer in front of him on the table certainly wasn’t his first – “…y-yew an’ tha’ Nick feller… yeh lived in the same house… a-an’ yew didn’’ turn cold an’ heartless?  S-so it ain’t, like, infish-… i-infesk…”

 

“Aw, _hell_ , Keith, yeh had too much tuh drink ‘gain…”, Ellis said, though his words were soft and spoken with the kind of reverence between the closest of friends, which he then testamented by clinking his beer with Keith’s again.  “An’ naw, it ain’t infec’shus.  It ain’t even no disease.  An’ Nick ain’t heartless or cold if’n yew get tuh know ‘im…”

 

“Sure he isn’t…”, Bob said softly, and Ellis’ mom rolled her eyes.

 

“Ellis, dahlin’… Nick turnin’ yew out on Christmas Eve… ain’t tha’ a li’l bit heartless or cold tuh yew?”  Ellis sighed – and suddenly Nick felt a heaviness in his chest, a kind of anticipation for the worst.  But why would it feel _bad_ to think Ellis’d finally stop defending him?  It wasn’t like the hick _had to_ rush to his rescue…  However, to Nick’s infinite surprise, _he did._ Ellis’ words were soft, his tone no longer warm and reverent, but he still defended him.

 

“Not even a tiny bit.  ‘s Jus’… that’s how Nick is.  He’s ruthless an’ sometimes a bit rough on th’edges, but he also has a quick mind in tha’ head’a his, an’ those green eyes ain’t just fer lookin’ intuh.  Nick _notices things_.  He sees things no one else sees: opportunities, ways tuh make the best outta bad situations…  So he prob’ly had a reason fer firin’ me when he did an’ fer settin’ the terms of me leavin’ the way he did.  Maybe he found someone else tuh work cheaper fer him, or he doesn’t need no handyman no more… or he jus’ wants his privacy ‘cause he found ‘imself a lady...  Point is, he’s prob’ly got a real good reason tuh turn me out.  Ah jus’ maybe don’’ know it or see it, an’ neither d’yew… but that don’t mean it ain’t there…”  Ellis sighed and grew quiet again, which gave Keith the opportunity to speak up again drunkenly.

 

“B-but, Ellis, bro, he a-ain’t really… ah m-mean, ‘s not real nice’a him tuh jus’… l-like… ‘spect yew tuh… g-git up an’ leave… ah mean… y’a-ain’t had no notice… he jus’ said ‘go’ a-an’ expected yeh t-tuh leave…”

 

“…Yeah, well, ah won’t say Nick weren’t a bit upset when he asked me tuh leave… but he had ev’ry right tuh be.”, Ellis said, looking at his folded hands on the table.

 

“But still, ‘s no way tuh be treatin’ the feller tha’ lived in yer house with yew fer damn near two years…”, Keith said softly, and finally Ellis’ shoulders sagged and he spoke.

 

“Yeah, well, Nick weren’t doin’ me no favors, yeah, ‘cause he ain’t mah friend.”  It was said so plainly, with such rock-hard conviction, that Nick blinked and looked at the hick in surprise.  Not even twelve hours before, he’d called Nick his friend, multiple times, and refused to believe Nick when he said it wasn’t the case.  Had he…?

 

_“Yes, Nick.  You impacted him.  You made him cry, you made him rage, but most of all you made him see that you and him were just never meant to connect.  And more than your words or your anger, your final denial of liking him wounded him.  Deeply.  …You understand his pain, because it’s just like your own.  Hurt by the one person that you put your trust in.  Betrayed for opening your heart.  But to understand just how deeply you hurt him, or how your pain and his pain are more alike than you ever considered, or why, you need to wait just a little longer…”_ , the ghostly appearance next to him said, and Nick turned to Ellis again, catching the shiver running through the hick. 

 

‘ _God, Ellis, I… I wanted a lot, but never to make you… like this… you look like someone took your heart and smashed it with a hammer…_ ’, Nick caught himself musing as the hick seemingly mulled things over in his head.  He got up and sighed, looking around before saying softly: “…ah jus’ need tuh clear mah head a bit, ah’m goin’ fer a walk… be back in five minutes…”  Ellis walked out into the hallway, and Nick looked at his ghostly companion, already knowing that they had to follow the hick out again.  The cold obviously was biting, from the way Ellis pulled his scarf up higher around his mouth and nose – Nick didn’t feel a thing, and he was pretty sure the attractive miss Claus didn’t either.  However, what Ellis had told his mother, uncle and friend clearly had been meant as an excuse, because Ellis didn’t venture further out into the street than his pick-up truck.  He opened the battered passenger-side door and pulled something from the glove compartment, straightening it in his hands and looking at it.

 

And crying.

 

Nick almost looked away as thick tears, giving off a small trace of vapor due to the heat they held, streamed from the hick’s eyes into his scarf.  Ellis gave a soft, muffled sob and then spoke in a whisper that Nick still heard clearly as if Ellis was speaking right into his ear.

 

“W-why… why’d yeh… h-ha-have tuh… r-refuse meh…  W-why co-couldn’t yeh l-let me… why… y-yeh never even knew…”  A shaky breath, and Ellis continued a bit less softly, and infinitely more steady.  “…A-ah mean, shit, ‘s not like… ah know ah’m a fool fer… fer thi-thinkin’… fer h-ho-hopin’ yew’d see me… re-really _see_ me…  But ‘s jus’… y-yestehday… ah guess… ah guess ah finally saw… h-how things are ‘tween yew an’ me… y’ain’t never liked me… y’ain’t… n-never… yeh would’a never lo-loved me back the way ah love yew… th-the way ah still love yew… the way ah’ll always love yew… s-see, tha’’s the s-sa-saddest part… yew c’n kick me out, b-but yew’ll never g-git mah stubborn heart – heh, ‘that stubborn Southern hick heart’, r’member? – tuh kick yew out…”  Nick’s heart froze – his chest went cold and still, his breath caught in his lungs, his blood swirling in his veins, and every inch of his body prickling unpleasantly.

 

“N-no…”, he said, turning to the ghostly woman next to him, and she just smiled and nodded, motioning toward Ellis.  Nick looked over the hick’s shoulder to see the photograph, but he already knew who he’d see.  He already knew who’d shunted the hick aside so roughly, denied him so painfully.  Because Ellis had sighed out the culprit’s name softly.  _His_ name.  Spoken with such reverence, such love, such longing… such undeniable pain…  “H-how… when… how did this…  How did I never…?”, Nick stammered, and the female ghost accompanying him rolled her almond-shaped eyes.

 

_“Your heart was so closed to others, you never saw the signs for what they really were… like when Ellis, out of the blue, started to cook for you even though that wasn’t why you’d hired him at all.  Or when Ellis said the insurance paid for your car crash when in fact he pooled all of his month’s earnings into getting your car fixed for you AND paying the other man for the damage you’d caused to his car.  Don’t deny you didn’t know that…”_ , she added when Nick made to speak up, giving him a stern glance that had the words die away on his tongue.

 

“…A-and you’re showing this to me why?”, Nick said, still looking at Ellis, who just cried silently over his photo now.  However, the woman didn’t answer him again, leaving Nick to turn back to his former employee, speaking to him even if he knew that Ellis couldn’t see him, couldn’t hear him.  “…Ellis…  S-shit, I never wanted you to get… like this… like _me_ …  I never would’ve thought I’d turn into goddamn _Katie_ …  But… I don’t hate you… I…”  Nick mused on all the times that he’d come home to Ellis’ cooking, on all the times that he’d lay in bed at night unable to sleep and listening along to Ellis’ music  and slowly drifting off in the end… all the times he’d had a crappy day and Ellis had listened to him, all the times he’d had a good day and Ellis had smiled and told him ‘good’ or ‘you really know your stuff’…  And, musing like that, he figured that he hadn’t once stopped Ellis from going above and beyond his job because he’d liked the attention.  It had made him feel… better.  “…I like you, Ellis…”, he said.  “…And I’ve been a damn fool for turning you away the way I did… because… damn it, because I…”, Nick continued, his breathing heavy and his chest feeling like it was being squeezed together, making him hurt.  “Because I can’t come home to not have you there, god damn it.  I can’t not have you there.  I need you there… I need you…”  It was then that realization hit Nick like a freight train at full speed.  The sinking feeling he’d gotten that night, the pain he’d felt at seeing Ellis hurt, the happy memories…  “…Ellis, shit, I _love_ you…”

 

_“And that, Nicolas, love, is what I wanted to hear you say tonight…”_ , his ghostly companion said – when Nick turned to her again, he noticed she once again looked like her elderly, grandmother-esque self, and he didn’t mind that one bit.  It suited the tone of her voice, at any rate: chastising, yet warm, like a grandmother berating a grandchild for eating too many cookies before dinner.  _“You see now why he’s hurting just like you were and are.  You see now how deep his love ran and thus how deep the pain goes…”_ Ellis, next to him, looked up, looked right at him – Nick’s heart ground to a painful halt seeing those reddened eyes and the emotional upheaval reflected in them – and then sighed, stretched, put the picture back into his pick-up truck and walked back to the door, leaving Nick and Misses Claus behind.  The dark street began to blur around Nick and his ghostly companion – but Nick reached out to him.

 

“Wait!!  Ellis!  …Wait, can’t I…?”

 

_“I can only show you, Nick.  You knew it was just a mirror image of the present, not…”_ , she said.  Nick stood in his bedroom again, and his ghostly companion started to fade away again, but Nick spoke up one last time.

 

“…Wait, how’ll he… will he turn out like me?”, he asked, fearing the answer – after all, he’d turned out as shitty as he had, a man unable to even see love for what it was anymore, a man that needed his face pressed onto the facts before he realized them – but she just gave him a sad smile and turned to him again, no longer fading.

 

_“…You know that’s not how it works, Nicolas, love… I can’t see the future, that’s reserved for your next guest.  But what I can tell you is that, though you cannot change the past, you can at least learn from it and use the present to change the future…”_   When Nick nodded, she faded away again, and her voice sounded just once more.  _“…In one hour, your last visitor will come to take you to the future you’ve set yourself out to fulfill.  But remember, the future is yet to come.  It’s not fixed like the past.  You can still change it.  You can still make changes…”_

 

“I will…”, Nick sighed, the feeling of warmth in his bed contrasting to the cold he felt at the thought that Ellis was now maybe crying, feeling like shit because of him, and his last resolve before he fell asleep was to get Ellis to see that he didn’t hate him, that he loved him, that he needed him.

 

His sleep was restless and his dreams were tumultuous now, filled with Ellis crying, Ellis leaving, Ellis gone.  When he was, at last, roused again from his slumber, it was by a permeating sense of cold, in which he felt something like a trickle of water running down his cheek only to open his eyes and find a hooded figure standing next to him, its face hidden by the shadows of the large hood and its features distorted by the heavy cloth falling around it.  It didn’t speak, instead beckoning to Nick with a hand of which the fingers were thin and greyish.  Nick just knew that it’d been the touch of those fingers that had felt like water trickling down his cheek, and he shivered.

 

“…Uh, you want me to come out?”, Nick asked, and the hooded figure nodded.  And for the first time since he’d woken up that night in a room cold as ice, Nick felt anxious.

 

******

 

“W-where are we going?”, Nick said, and the hooded figure motioned to him and then around him, and Nick didn’t ask again, something holding him back from doing so, something telling him he wouldn’t like the answer…  The room blurred around them, and suddenly Nick stood outside, on the curb opposite his house.  The masked figure motioned for the building, and Nick took that as a signal to go inside – however, when he stepped in through the door, the hooded figure didn’t follow him.

 

And inside, Nick was shocked to find an elderly woman standing close to a younger couple, none of whom he knew.

 

“Wait, I… I’d never sell this house, I earned it working my ass off in my online business!  Every brick of this thing I had to work a full hour for!”, Nick said in surprise, and it was then that the others in the hallway spoke up.

 

“Mom, are you sure?”

 

“Yes I’m sure, your godfather told me to ‘do with the place whatever the hell I want’ and I want it torn down.”  Nick became more and more confused every passing second.  Who was this woman?  How did the young man’s godfather have anything to do with his house?  And why would anyone want the house torn down?  It was lovely, exquisitely decorated even when it stood all bare and empty.  But it felt cold to him – so very, very cold.  Nothing inside it had remained.  He found himself wandering the rooms and the first thing he discovered was that Ellis’ apartment had been redecorated with colder colors on the walls.   The warmth of the mechanic clearly had left with him.

 

“Mom?  I… you’re absolutely, positively sure that Uncle-“

 

“Yes, Rob, I’m absolutely positively sure.  Your godfather isn’t really in any state to care about this house anymore.  I wanted to give it to you, but you said it reminds you too much of him and his cold heart, and you don’t want little Nicola and your new baby to grow up in a house that’s haunted by him… so it’s getting torn down.  The sale of the property netted me a nice little sum, half of which goes to your two darling children…”  She smiled and went outside, and Nick found himself being pushed to the door as well.

 

Nick watched as his house was torn down to the very fundaments, feeling as if it was his spirit being broken.  That house represented so much to him, and to see it carelessly torn down like that…

 

“…Who were they?  And why would this guy’s godfather have anything to do with my house?”  The shrouded spirit again motioned to the side, the surroundings changing around them swiftly until they stood in front of another familiar building.  His office.

 

The garage at the ground floor was flourishing, and he could see a stream of young girls issue from the door leading to his office and the ballroom, but the middle floor looked empty, and when he moved inside, running up the stairs swiftly as he didn’t have the patience to wait for the elevator, Nick found a notice posted on the door of his office.

 

“…Out of business?  Bankruptcy?  W-what the hell?”  He reread the notice again, which outlined that his business had gone bankrupt in the very distant future, and that the property had been sold to pay off debtors.  But how could that have happened?  His business was flourishing back in the present, he paid all his taxes in time…  Nick couldn’t imagine anything ever going wrong.  Then, as he turned back to the stairs, the spirit stood waiting for him already, beckoning Nick to follow silently.  They headed into the garage, where a scarred, white-haired man stood wiping his hands on an oil rag – he had an air of youthfulness around him, despite his clearly aged appearance, and one of the younger mechanics walked up to him.

 

“Mister Davidson?  There’s someone asking about ‘Give in style’…”

 

“Tell ‘em tuh go to the second floor…  An’ how many times do ah have tuh tell yeh, Dave, call me Keith.”, the man said, and Nick looked at the man in surprise.  Keith – as in Ellis’ friend and colleague, Keith?  The young mechanic that had come up to his desk one day?  He had a hard time believing that the young man he knew from the present would age so well, because he didn’t look a day over fifty which he probably wasn’t.

 

“M-mister Davidson, I can’t call my boss by his first name, that’s not right! …S-so there’s something up there after all?  I thought that was just an empty floor…”, the young mechanic said, and Keith sighed, shaking his head.

 

“Nah… used tuh be a comp’ny up there, owned by a real shark’f a man, called Nick Masters.  Real cold feller he was – ruthless business man.  Owned th’entire buildin’…  But then he started tuh git intuh trouble ‘cause people sued him fer not livin’ up tuh his advertisements…   Nick could’a gotten off, prob’ly, if’n he treated people better’n he did… but since he didn’t, he got a real hard fine an’ things spiraled outta control.  Ended up havin’ tuh file for bankruptcy.  Mah previous boss, Bob Tanner, once rented this place from ‘im, so when ah saw it went up fer sale, ah bought this ‘ere garage – never really forgave Nick fer bein’ strict with the rent…”, Keith said with a grin, and when the young mechanic looked at him, the question clear on his lips, he shook his head softly.  “…Yeah, Nick Masters, he was tha’ bad’f a person.  If’n yeh met ‘im on the street, he prob’ly would’a bowled yew over an’ not even ‘pologise for it…”  Nick turned to his ghostly companion again, having heard enough – and, though he couldn’t bring himself to admit it, feeling deep shame rise within him.

 

“…So my house is gone, my company is bankrupt…  I never had friends… my family?  How about my family?”, Nick suddenly asked, and the ghost nodded softly, the scenery around them blurring again until they stood in an overly light hallway, with chairs set every so often to create convenient points of rest, and side-tables with potted plants providing a bit of ambience.  An elderly man shuffled through the hallway, wearing carpet slippers and a housecoat over a scruffy-looking shirt and pants combination, but he read a newspaper as he went.  The shrouded figure accompanying Nick pointed ahead, to an opened doorway at the end of the hallway, and Nick briskly moved in there to hear the same people he’d seen before in his house.  Their voices made him freeze in the doorway, however, looking at them as they spoke.

 

“Mom, you should tell miss Henriksen, so she’ll at least know he’s… gone, you know?  She keeps asking about it – how he’s doing, if he remembers her yet, if he remembers her ‘sweet uncle’ yet…”, the young man said.

 

“Rob, miss Henriksen’s just an incredibly nosy woman, and she’s got no business whatsoever with my life.  If she wants to think Im still visiting him, let her.  I only told her I was visiting him to stop her from asking awkward questions, anyway.  _He_ taught me that, anyways – he taught me to lie.  Only good thing he ever did, because it made things so much easier in the end.”  The older woman rolled her eyes, staring down at her cup of coffee – that was somehow familiar to Nick, though he didn’t know who it reminded him of.

 

“Mom… please, I… I want to know too…  What about Robby’s godfather is so horrible… and how you can say that the only good thing he ever did was teach you how to lie…”, the young woman said softly, and the sigh that followed was the only sound in the small apartment aside from a loudly ticking clock for a full minute.  And then the older woman spoke, her voice weary and telling of her age more than it had been before.

 

“My brother was a real jerk, Emily.  I don’t mean ‘rude and obnoxious’ – I mean you hated him the moment you walked into the room, because he just _made your skin itch._ He became like that when I was about twenty-five – right around the time our mom started to get into bad health, too… and he became even worse when he lost his work.  It could’ve been resolved if he’d just not been such an asshole.  If he’d been prepared to give those people a refund.  …Even his _lawyer_ was surprised how he’d let things go as far as they had – but, of course, if anyone commented on that, he gave them a good earful of cursing.  Things went downhill so fast – not only his work, but his health…  He got into this nursing home where all the nurses hated him, all the other people hated him, and where he suffered.  Every week I’d go in and visit him… every week he said I shouldn’t bother.  Every week he said I wasn’t worth his time.  And then, I listened to him.  I felt a lot happier then, just… giving him up.  Letting him go.  It became convenient, because around that time I met David – uhm, mister Hedlund – and started seeing him, well, with more than friendship in mind.  So I just told people I was going to visit my brother, but instead I went to David – and gradually I started feeling less bad about never seeing him.  It certainly made it easier when I heard dementia set in – he’d forget that I never visited, and people stopped asking questions soon.  …Anyways, he still had one other visitor every week.  Which, presumably, is miss Henriksen’s ‘sweet uncle’. “  Something about her words made Nick move into the room to look at her – _really_ look at her, at her face – but there was no need.  The photographs on the walls told him all he needed to know.

 

“A-anita?”, Nick said, looking nonplussed.  His sister’s face had sharpened over the years, her dark hair had whitened completely, and her dark green eyes, once so mysterious, had lightened with the years and now seemed to shine with an almost ghostly lightness.  “T-then that awful guy she was talking about… that’s me?”, Nick asked as an afterthought, his mind already focused on the next part of their quest of discovering the bleak future laid out for him.  And even though he couldn’t deny anymore that it was about him, the young man confirmed it even more.

 

“…You never saw Uncle Nick, Emily, darling, but he’s every bit as bad as mom says.  He was never pleasant to be around.  I never visited him when he was in that nursing home – at first I told myself ‘I’m studying’, ‘I’m arranging my marriage’, ‘I don’t have time, I’m too busy with work’…  But the plain and simple answer was that I just didn’t want to go.  Uncle Nick was unpleasant, horrible to everyone he met… he had no friends, and just one hour together with him made sure you didn’t want a repeat of that unpleasantness.  Come to think of it, the only one that didn’t seem to mind was this one guy that always sent him letters.  He’s probably the same guy that went to visit him weekly in the end.”

 

“…S-so no one visited him anymore before…?”, Emily said, and to Nick’s horror both his sister and her son didn’t seem too bothered by their own answers: shaking their heads, they even managed a soft smile.  “That’s horrible!”, the young woman said, and Anita looked at her daughter-in-law with a weary glance before speaking again.

 

“…If you’d known him, you wouldn’t have said that, Emily, darling…”  The shrouded spirit appeared next to Nick so suddenly the con man nearly jumped in fright, but then he sighed and looked at his ghostly companion.

 

“…I’ve seen enough.  So in the end, no one can stand me, and I’ll probably die alone…”, Nick said, thinking of Ellis and how the hick maybe had still cared from afar, unable to approach him – or unwilling to, after the way he’d hurt him – and it was as if the spirit had heard his unspoken words, because the scenery around them already had started to shift.

 

This time, however, the scenery was all the more macabre.  They stood in the cold dark of the night, on a snow-covered graveyard, at a grave marked only by a wooden cross yet clearly no longer new.  Grass had grown all over it, unkempt and messy-looking even through the snow, and since no one bothered to tend for the wooden cross the data carved into it had become illegible as the wood had been covered with algae crusts and marred by the elements.  Nick blinked and then looked at the shrouded figure again, confused.

 

“…I… Is this… my grave?”, Nick asked, and the figure nodded, exhaling slowly and deeply – a raspy sound seemingly coming from deep within the shrouds, which fluttered – and pointing at the grave.  “…a poor man’s grave...  Not even my name’s left of me…  Can’t blame the world.  I had this coming, didn’t I?  …But… I’m curious… the flower…  I mean,” Nick said, exhaling and looking at the tiny little brownish leaves peeking just above the snow, “someone cared enough to put it there.  But… was it Ellis?  And if it is Ellis, why’d he stop?”

 

The shrouded figure pointed into the distance with a greyish hand, and at the same moment a little light flickered in the distance.  Nick didn’t doubt for a second that the light was where Ellis was – maybe the hick was coming to bring him a fresh flower…  He wanted to see Ellis, wanted to see if the years had been kind to him.  But most of all, he just wanted to see one person – just one – that didn’t think he’d been a waste of space when he was still alive.  Just one person that mourned him, that remembered him fondly.

 

“Ellis!!”, he called, knowing full well that the hick wouldn’t answer him, because he couldn’t hear him.  But he couldn’t stop himself.  “Ellis!!”  It was hard to see in the dark, but the figure crouched on the ground was easy enough to spot, and Nick dropped to his knees in front of him, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to hug his former employee.  “Oh, god, Ellis, I-“  He halted suddenly – because the figure in front of him didn’t move.  He looked a bit better and noticed what the figure was.

 

It was a stone statue of an angel holding a lantern, and the flickering flame of it illuminated the headstone it was perched over.  Nick’s heart froze as he read the text.

 

“Ellis John Mason, beloved son and brother – born 10/17/1985, died 12/25/2045…”  He shook his head, still on his knees, and slowly he lowered his head to the headstone, until it rested against the cold stone.  He felt sad – unreasonably so, even considering that he’d just acknowledged the fact that Ellis meant so much to him earlier that night – and he softly whimpered out a plea to the unresponsive granite.  “…Why?  Why’d Ellis go so young?  He was… just sixty…  A-and-“

 

“…Uncle Ellis…”, came a soft voice, and Nick turned around to see a sweet-looking woman walk up to the grave, holding a Christmas wreath.  “…Uncle Ellis, it’s me, Claire… you know, Keith’s little baby girl…  I just… came to bring you your Christmas wreath… i-it’s been, what, three years now?  I miss you, a-an’ dad misses you…”

 

“And I miss you…”, Nick added, still looking up at the woman where she stood – he faintly noticed how she looked to be in her late twenties to early thirties, with auburn hair that she’d tied into a neat bun – but she continued softly, and her words caused Nick to very nearly cry.

 

“…God, it still breaks my heart to think of how your heart really always was your weakness.  I mean, I know that one guy… Nick?  Yeah, Nick, wasn’t it?  I know you loved him.  I know you turned down about twenty dozen women because you loved him.  Dad always said how you thought it was ‘unfair’ to the ladies if you’d encouraged them.  …But…  I wish I knew if it really was Nick that actually broke your heart in the end.  I know you died of a ruptured coronary artery, but you knew you had to mind your stress levels.  You knew that so well.  It… it must’ve been something Nick said…  I just wish I had the courage to go and ask him.  H-he mustn’t get many visitors anymore with you gone… a-and sometimes I think that’s maybe for the best, but then… then I think of what you’d say about me thinking that and… oh, _uncle…_ ”  She wiped away a tear that threatened to freeze on her cheek and then placed the wreath in the shadow of the stone angel’s hands, smiling weakly as she did so.  “…L-look, uncle Ellis, holly… you… you always said you like holly…  I…  Good night, uncle…”  She walked away again, and Nick wound his way back to the shrouded figure slowly, every step making him feel heavier.  His house had been torn down, his company bankrupt, his family hated him, and somehow he’d managed to be so cruel to Ellis that the hick had died…

 

“…I know now…”, Nick said to the shrouded figure, his tone dull and defeated and his eyes showing that same pain as he looked at his ghostly companion.  “…I was horrible… if I want people to let me into their hearts, I’ve got to be kinder.  If I want to have a positive influence, if I want people to remember me…  if I want people to respect me… then I’ve got to treat people with respect… and kindness…”, he said.  And in the end, he added just one more thought, one tiniest fragment of inner monologue that he didn’t voice.

 

‘ _But what hurts the most is seeing Ellis’ grave all the way on the other side of the cemetery, as if he meant nothing to me… as if even in death I’m not allowed to be close to him… close to Ellis…_ ’  Suddenly, the shrouded figure took one step to him and pulled him aside – the feeling of those cold, clammy, ghostly hands on him, even though there was a layer of fabric between that dead-looking skin and his own, made him shiver in disgust – and then it spoke to him, its voice grating like a rusty iron fence creaking.

 

_“…You caused him to die… you caused his life to end…”_

 

“W-what?”, Nick said, shocked.  His previous disgust was forgotten as he placed his hand on the shrouded figure’s arm in turn, wanting to shake it.  “…I d-don’t understand, how could I-?”

 

_“…You caused his heart, his big and loving heart, to stop…  After all you took from him – his job, his home, his happiness, his chance at life as a married man, his heart – you had to take his life as well…”_

“…N-no, I’d never… I realized that I… that I loved him!  I realized that!”, Nick said rapidly, but the shrouded figure shook its head.

 

_“…You broke him in one second, Nicolas… you broke him and ended his dreams, his hopes, his love, in one second…”_

“N-no!  No, don’t say that!  I-it’s not true!  It can’t be true!”, Nick now shouted, trying to clasp his hands over his ears to drown out that grating, raspy, cold voice of his ghostly companion, but it grabbed his hands with ease and spoke darkly.

 

_“…and the worst thing is that Ellis used his last breath… to whisper your name…”_   Nick felt as though his own heart had stopped, as though his blood had frozen in his veins.

 

“No… no, no no…”, he whispered, over and over, sagging to his knees on the surprisingly soft ground of his grave.  The pain he felt was without compare, without relief, without hope for forgiveness.  Ellis would hate him for an eternity for taking away everything from him…  Ellis… the one person that had ever truly loved him, perhaps…  The one person that he’d let into his heart when he’d made it his goal in life to keep everyone out…  He looked up at the shrouded figure again, eyes and cheeks stained with tears, feeling sick to his stomach, feeling as though he had been pushed and dragged through filth, through glass debris, through fire.  “W-why would you… t-tell me that?  W-what are you… t-tha-that you’re so cruel…?”

 

A gust of wind blew past him, pulling at Nick’s clothes, and the shroud flew off the figure, blowing away into the distance – but Nick didn’t notice anymore.  He finally saw who the figure in front of him was.

 

_“The only one… that can be so cruel to you, Nick… is you…”_

It was him – a dead, withered, desiccated version of himself, white-haired, his skin marred with wrinkles and lentigines, his eyes sunken, his teeth mostly gone.  His suit hung tattered around his deathly slender and greyish form, patches of skin pulled tight over bones showing.  Dead eyes stared at him, and the sight of the dead version of himself made him finally fall to his knees, his stomach heaving, but nothing coming.   It was then that the figure took one step towards him, reaching out for him – Nick scrambled backwards on his hands and knees, wide-eyed in shock and horror.

 

“N-No… no, get away!!  H-ha-haven’t you shown me enough?!”

 

_“…Just one more thing… just one more sight… just one more realization…”_ , the ghostly version of himself said, and Nick shook his head vehemently.  However, he’d scrambled right to a dead end – the ghostly, dead version of his future self had him cornered between a tree, a headstone and itself, and Nick resorted to one last plea.

 

“N-no, please, no…”  But already the scene changed around him, and Nick found himself standing in a room smelling of vomit, urine, and bleach.  A TV blared loudly inside, and he saw a mess of unruly white hair stick out over the top of a musty-looking red sofa.  Walking around the chair, he looked and saw himself sitting there.  From the moment he looked, Nick noticed that he was dead.  His skin was white, his face drawn into a somewhat pained grimace, his hand laying uselessly on his lap.

 

And suddenly Nick knew what’d happen even before he saw the other man enter the room.

 

“N-nick, ah brought yeh somethin’ tuh eat t’day…”, Ellis said – he looked good, Nick mused, at sixty – still vital, still with that youthful fire in his eyes and that warmth in his voice even though much of the light had been taken from him.  He saw the effect years and years of living on hope and distant affection clearly, and if his resolve to find Ellis and set things right again had been strong before, it was unstoppable now.  But then the hick moved to the sofa as Nick had done, and he gasped as well.  “N-nick!!  Nick, aw hell naw…  N-NURSE!!  NUUUUUUUUURSE!! M-mah… ahh… m-mah friend, he’s… call a doctor!!  Call an ambulance!!”, he said, his voice showing clear panic, and the nurse tried to calm him down.  But then, very unceremoniously really, Ellis grabbed for his chest and sagged, slowly, onto his knees, his breathing reduced to short, pained gasps as the pressure built up on the inside.

 

“Sir?!”, the nurse that had come running said in clear shocked realization, but it was too late.  Ellis’ eyes were already rapidly losing their fire, and his breathing was shallow and futile.  His heart had started bleeding out.

 

“N-niiiiiiiiiick…”, came the soft sigh, like a final plea, and then Ellis’ eyes stared up at Nick, unseeing…

 

…and just as Nick spoke in the night, he woke up in a bedroom brightly illuminated from outside, Ellis’ name on his lips.

 

*****

 

“…Holy shit…”, Nick cursed softly, jumping out of his bed.  Opening the curtains to his bedroom, he noticed that it was already day – the sun was rising over the horizon, its golden light brilliantly reflected off the snow that had fallen overnight.  A quick look at his alarm clock revealed that it was nine in the morning, and Nick blanched, running into the bathroom.  As he was there, brushing his teeth with one hand and trying to get himself decently lathered up with shaving cream with the other, he heard a door slam downstairs and he halted, toothbrush clattering into the sink in front of him.

 

Ellis…  He had to set things right, he had to… he couldn’t let Ellis leave him.  He couldn’t let Ellis go, he couldn’t let his mistake ruin everything.

 

And that’s when a plan started to dawn in his mind.  Nick smiled and returned to his daily hygiene tasks with renewed vigor, plotting out every step of his plan in his mind, thinking through each detail focused solely on that one goal of setting things right with Ellis.  And, along the way, making up for a few other mistakes as well…

 

 

 

December 25th was just as busy as the day before it had been – still some people hurried across the streets, but most of the shops were closed.  Instead, it seemed like small foodstalls and last-minute florist stalls had cropped up on every available spot, and several people were busy frequenting them.

 

Nick passed them by without a glance, focused on his plan for the day.

 

He walked down the street, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his light grey overcoat, face nearly completely covered by a dark green scarf, his pace brisk but his eyes distant and his expression one of focus, not anger.  People still took a step back or paused in their daily routine as he passed and Nick had to keep himself from sighing.  He hadn’t ever been bothered by the way people treated him before, thinking it was a waste of time and a potential risk to himself to treat people to anything but cold indifference, but now he knew how much that wounded and he resolved to change the hearts and minds of the people that had gotten to know him as a surly old grump.  One step at a time.

 

He turned a corner and bumped into a young girl carrying a wreath.  She looked up at him, eyes large and fearful, expecting a reprimand from him – and suddenly it was as if the people around him held their breath, one or two already taking a step closer to the girl to comfort her.

 

Nick suddenly felt faintly nauseous with himself.

 

“…Sorry… did the wreath get damaged?  No?  Then off you go.  Merry Christmas.”  He walked on, oblivious to the incredulous stares of the people he walked away from, but not at all deaf to the vague reply the young girl shouted.  He smiled as he walked on.

 

Step one of a very long and winding road, he mused, walking the rest of the distance to his office without interruptions.

 

“M-mister Masters!”  Of course, as soon as he arrived at his office building, his tenant came running up to him – Bob Tanner looked pale, and Nick knew that he wouldn’t be able to pay the rent.  But suddenly he could care less about the money.  All he wanted to get out of the day was to get Ellis back with him, where he belonged.

 

“Look, Ta- Bob, why don’t you come up with me to my office, I’m not having this conversation out here in the cold.”, he said, motioning for the elevator – and the mechanic followed him, looking a bit apprehensive because Nick hadn’t ever invited him up into his office before, let alone called him by his first name.  However, the business man smiled.  Once he’d opened the door to his office, he beckoned for the mechanic to sit down at his desk while he unwrapped his scarf and took off his coat, hanging both of them over his desk chair – he didn’t plan on staying long, anyway.

 

“Mister Masters, I… I’m begging you, please, just… I need more time, I can’t go ‘round chasing my customers for payment on Christmas… I can’t…  J-just three more days, then I’ll be able to pay, I swear!”, the mechanic stammered, his voice panicky and soft, and Nick nodded.

 

“Bob… listen.  December 28th is perfectly fine with me, but I’ll want your written guarantee that that money’s going to be on my account or in my hand that day at the latest, okay?”  When Bob blinked, suddenly speechless, fear still clearly present from his wide-eyed stare, Nick sighed and added: “…I promise you I won’t turn you out or charge you late fees.  And I swear I’m not kidding.”

 

“M-mi-mister Ma-masters?”  The mechanic stared at him – it was bordering on rude, so Nick rolled his eyes and grinned, his voice only the least bit annoyed.

 

“Jeez, do a man a favor…  First, you’ll sign a document saying you’ll pay on December 28th at the latest, and then you are going to go down there, wash up, and go to your family.”, he said with authority, and slowly his tenant’s face split into a wide smile, and he stammered something that was meant to be ‘thank you’, causing Nick to chuckle.  “Oh yeah, and Bob?  Call me Nick.”  He was glad the man didn’t actually hug him – the prospect of grease-stains on his white suit didn’t please him at all, to be honest, and five minutes later the mechanic was signing a document stating he’d pay his overdue rent by December 28th at the latest.

 

“…T-thanks, mister Masters… uh, I mean Nick… thank you… thanks so much!”

 

“Just remember to be in time next month, okay?”, Nick said as he put the paper safely away in one of his drawers.  “I’m just doing this because… because I don’t wanna turn you out over the holidays, but I’m still a businessman.  I need that rent on time, just like you need your customers to pay you on time.  You can ask for a delay in payment, but… _ask_ , okay?  I’m not… well, I used to be unreasonable, maybe, but I’m not going to stay an asshat for the rest of my life.  Still doesn’t mean I can give you free use of my property…”

 

“N-no, of course not, I understand…”, Bob said with a soft smile before reiterating his words of thanks, this time sounding less relieved and more profoundly grateful.

 

“Good, because if you don’t, we’ll be butting heads again someday and both getting a headache over it… now go, man, I’m sure you’ve got a family waiting for you.”  Bob nodded and walked outside, turning around as he closed the door again and adding a soft wish to his words of goodbye.

 

“…Have a merry Christmas, okay, Nick?”

 

“Yeah, I think I will.”, Nick said, smiling when the man closed the door.  He spent the rest of his two hours in the office calling up each and every customer he had promised to deliver goods to that day to say he’d be closed for two days due to the holidays after all and offering them a full refund if they wanted to cancel their order, and a 10 dollar gift certificate for their next purchase to make up for the delay if they didn’t.  Most customers gladly accepted the gift certificate, and in the end Nick closed his office door behind him with a smile.  Time for part two of his plan.

 

He’d looked up three addresses before closing his computer again, and the first of those was just a ten minute walk from his office, it turned out.  Cole’s Fine Meats and Delicatessen was an older-looking store in a modern-looking building, and the scent inside the shop reminded Nick of his mother’s kitchen somewhat, all spices and fragrant stock and a slight hint of wine.

 

“Good afternoon, sir, can I help you?”, the girl behind the counter said, and Nick nodded.

 

“I believe you’ve got an order waiting for a mrs. Tanner, right?”, she said, and the girl nodded.

 

“Yeah, mrs. Tanner called just five minutes ago to say she’d send someone to pick it up...”, she said, and Nick smiled.

 

“It’s, uh, a large ham to roast with some little appetizers, right?”, he said, and she nodded, causing Nick to smile at her.  “Yeah, I’m here to pick it up – but mrs. Tanner also said she’d like for me to also pick up some of your renowned venison stew… uh, if you still have some, that is…”, he added, and the girl smiled a bit more uncertainly.

 

“I’ll, uh, have to check that with mister Cole, sir…  Wait here five minutes?”  She disappeared to the actual butchery, where a young boy wearing an all-white outfit was just cutting up pork chops – and after five minutes, the girl came back to him.

 

“Sir?  There’s still stew – enough to serve four… but I believe mrs. Tanner said her company would be five?”  Nick mentally commended her for her mental acuity, but outwardly he nodded slowly.

 

“Yeah, that’s true… however, it’s kind of a surprise for her son, so if it’s enough to serve four, that’ll do just fine…  I don’t believe mrs. Tanner paid for her order yet, did she?”, Nick said, and the girl shook her head.

 

“N-no, sir, she paid for the ham and the appetizers already…”

 

“Well, then I’ll just pay her back for them, I guess.  How much will the stew be?”

 

“The stew’ll be forty dollars, sir…”, she said, and Nick paid her, walking outside carrying the grocery bags with the meat in it and heading back to his home.  He just had one more stop to make and then he’d get changed, jump into his car and drive downtown…

 

As he entered his home, Nick found the door to Ellis’ apartments to be standing open and he walked inside – the rooms were eerily empty, and Nick’s heart ached at the sight.  His anger of the night before returned to the forefront of his mind, and Ellis’ hurt, sad expression seemed to be etched into his retinas permanently as he walked through every room, still faintly smelling the hick’s deodorant in one of them, and finding a stray bottle of beer in the mini-fridge that still stood in his home.  With a sigh, he moved to his kitchen to keep the meat cooled until he’d leave again, and he then walked up the stairs to his own rooms.

 

“H-huh, what the…?”, Nick said as he found a neatly folded paper laying underneath the door leading to his room – and inside he found a messily scrawled note from his former employee.

 

“’Dear Nick, you oughta be happy to hear I moved all of my stuff out already so you can start looking for a new handy man soon.  I’ll get my post forwarded next Monday – until then, please don’t rip up or burn any letters to me.  I hope you’ll have a good life.  Sincerely, Ellis Mason.’ …God, Ellis… Like hell I’m happy and like hell I’ll look for anyone else…”, he said sadly, deciding to speed up his plan just a notch…

 

 

 

“What d’yew mean, ‘th’order’s already been picked up’?”, Keith asked the young girl in the butcher’s shop, and she looked as if she’d been caught with her hand in the cash register.

 

“B-but the other guy, he knew everything in the order and all!  I… I’ll ask mister Cole t-to replace your order… a-and if that’s not possible, you’ll get a full refund, of course…”, she said, and Keith nodded, allowing her to dash to the back to confer with her boss while taking out his cellphone and calling Ellis’ mother.

 

“Misses Tanner, ‘s me… ah went tuh pick up yer order an’ there was some guy tha’ picked up yers… they’re checkin’ tuh see if’n they can gimme another ham or somethin’-“

 

“ _What?  How did that happen?  That was a very specific order, and I told mister Cole to confirm with me before it got picked up!_ ”, the woman on the other side commented, and Keith rolled his eyes.

 

“’s Emily… girl’s hot, sure, but she ain’t gotten tha’ note ‘bout not givin’ yer order from misteh Cole…”  Keith then noticed the butcher opening the door and added a quick: “Misteh Cole’s here, talk t’yew later…”

 

“Hello… Keith, right?  Emily just told me what happened and I’m really sorry to say that that was my last prepared ham.  I could give you another one, but it’ll be plain, and misses Tanner gave specific instructions that it had to be prepared.  So  I have no choice but to just give you the money she’d paid already back and… and apologise for the mix-up.”  Keith sighed and nodded, accepting the money from the man and speaking up.

 

“’s awrigh’, misteh Cole, yew c’n do nothin’ ‘bout that, an’ neither can Emily.  Like she said, tha’ other guy knew what was in th’order… a-an’ yew didn’t get an address or somethin’?”, he said, and the girl shook her head.

 

“No… I’m sorry, uh, Keith…”, she said, and the mechanic turned to the door and walked away, still shaking his head softly, wondering who could do something like take someone else’s order.

 

 

 

“…Ellis, dahlin’, ‘s this the last’a yer stuff then?”, Ellen Tanner asked as she heard her son come in and close the door behind him, and Ellis gave her a weak smile that showed her how sad he really felt more clearly than if he’d been crying his eyes out.

 

“Yeah, momma.  ‘S the last.  …Ah can’’ b’lieve Nick ac’shully threw me outta mah ‘partment.  Ah can’t believe Nick fired me… all over somethin’ so stupid…”

 

“…Ah’m jus’ gon’ have tuh take over the role’a yer uncle ‘ere an’ say ‘Son, tha’s Nick Masters we’re talkin’ about’…”, his mother said with a pretty spot-on impression of her brother, and Ellis chuckled, his worries and grief forgotten for a second.  But then he realized that there were a few people missing and he frowned.

 

“…Wait, where _is_ uncle Bob an’ Keith?  Ah wanted tuh ask ‘em how things went at th’garage tuhday!”

 

“Keith an’ yer uncle are lookin’ ‘round for a butcher tha’ still has meat-“, she said, and Ellis blanched.

 

“ _Aw crap,_  ah was s’posed tuh bring the meat with me!  Aw, momma, ah fergot… w-with Nick an’ all…”, Ellis said, looking ashamed, and his mother patted him on the shoulder gently, smiling at him to make him stop feeling responsible.

 

“Naw, Ellis, yew had other things on yer mind, ah knew tha’!  So ah sent Keith tuh pick it up… but ‘parently someone already picked up mah order from Cole’s…”  When Ellis blinked, she meant to explain further, but then both the doorbell and the telephone started ringing.  “Aw _hell_ , the phone’ll be Bob or Keith… Ellis, dahlin’, yew mind seein’ who’s at the door?”, Ellen said as she walked inside again, and Ellis sighed and moved to open the front door.

 

When he noticed who stood there, he nearly fell backwards in shock.

 

“…Hey, Ellis...”  Nick stood on the doorstep, dressed in his best suit and – Ellis could see as much even despite the heavy scarf the businessman wore – even a tie for the occasion.  In one hand,  he had a plain white grocery bag, and in the other he had a large green bag with a florist’s logo on it.  “I, uh… I came to apologise for yesterday.”

 

“Nick?”  Ellis’ voice was barely more than a whisper, incredulous and low, and Nick nodded, smiling.

 

“Yeah, it’s me, I’m here… look, Ellis, I’m sorry I shouted at you, I’m sorry I said all that.  I… overnight I realized that I’ve come to depend on you to take care of me.  So… I take back everything I said.”

 

“W-whah?  Y-yeh mean tha’?”, Ellis said, his voice still soft and incredulous, but now a light shone in those bright blue eyes, and Nick’s smile instinctively broadened.

 

“I mean each and every word I said now.  When I wake up tomorrow morning, I expect you there for breakfast, and when I go to sleep I expect you to wish me a good night, like you always did and like you’ll keep on doing.”  He then smiled and handed Ellis the plain white grocery bag, which weighed surprisingly heavy, and winked at his former employee.  “…Now, go on inside and give this to your mom.”  Ellis nodded, still having an expression appropriate to being hit over the head sharply, and moved inside.  A muffled conversation ensued and then Ellen Tanner’s voice rang out clearly:

 

“How in the hell did Nick Masters git mah order from Cole’s?”

 

“…I, uh, took the liberty of getting it for you, since Ellis tends to be forgetful and since I wanted to do something _nice_ for you.  Oh, and if you tell me how much that order came to, I’ll pay it back to you – consider it repayment for treating Ellis like shit more often than I can even think of right now.  …Oh, and, uh…”, Nick said as the woman of the house appeared in the hallway, looking just about as skeptic as he imagined she could, and he grabbed something from his other bag, which turned out to be a bouquet of fake flowers, and presented it to her, making her freeze, large-eyed and completely stunned.  “…uh, it’s not very Christmas-like, I know, but… merry Christmas.  I had to give you something, right?   I mean, I’m a guest tonight – if I didn’t lose my invitation yet, I mean…”, he added somewhat more meekly, and the woman stammered something, torn between refusing him based on two solid years of slowly grown distrust of the man that had housed her son and inviting the apparently changed man that stood on her doorstep inside.  In the end, Ellis chuckled and patted his mother on the shoulder softly.

 

“Aw, momma, ‘s okay if’n Nick joins us fer dinner, righ’?  He’s ‘pologised fer shoutin’ tuh me las’ night an’ he said he don’t want me tuh leave.  He took back firin’ me.”  The woman nodded, still not inviting Nick in, and Ellis spoke up again, grinning apologetically at his boss.  “…Uh, momma, why don’t yew start makin’ dinner already?  Ah jus’… ah jus’ wan’ talk tuh Nick, got a few things ah need tuh tell ‘im…”  She nodded and walked back inside, absent-mindedly stroking one of the fake flowerpetals, and as soon as she’d gone into the kitchen Ellis turned to Nick again.  “…look, Nick, ‘s somethin’ yew need tuh know… if’n ah’m comin’ back tuh work fer yew…  Ah, uh… w-well, ah maybe kinda am gon’ be a bit… diff’rent… ‘round yew… “

 

“Heh, well, that’s allright, Ellis, I don’t want things to be the same anymore, either.”, Nick said, and Ellis rolled his eyes.

 

“Heh, if’n yew knew wha’ ah mean, then yew wouldn’t be sayin’ tha’, Nick… really, yeh wouldn’t…”

 

“Try me.”, Nick said, his grin challenging and his eyes soft, and Ellis took a deep breath and, true to his nature, blurted out what was on his mind.

 

“Well, it’s jus’ kinda tha’ ah made mahself this promise tuh be honest with yew…  Nick, ah kind’f… l-luv yew… ah mean, ah love yew.  Ah’ve loved yew, prob’ly since ah very firs’ saw yew… a-an’ ah’m not gon’ hide it, not anymore.”  He looked at Nick, and through the hesitance and the slight shyness, Nick could see resolve and the love he intended to stop hiding, and it only strengthened his own resolve.

 

“…I…  Well…  Uhm, maybe now would be a good time to give you this, then…”, Nick said, fishing something else from the bag and giving it to Ellis.  The hick’s eyes instantly turned large and his slightly hesitant expression turned to one of utmost wonder and happiness.  “It’s kind of awkward to give a guy flowers, but I figured you’d love a Christmas wreath like this.  Holly’s your favorite, right?”, he said, and Ellis turned to him, dumbfounded.

 

“Y-yeah… how’d yew… ah mean, ah never even…”  When Ellis just stared at the wreath, Nick spoke on softly.

 

“There’s gonna have to be a few changes around the house, Ellis.  For one, you’re going to have to do a lot more around the house… but if you want to go for a full-time job as a mechanic, you can.  And another thing is, you can’t use those downstairs rooms anymore-“  Now Ellis looked at him again, his eyes still displaying wonder but also slight shock.

 

“B-but Nick, ah… ah don’’ understand, didn’t yew say yeh took ev’rythin’ back?  S-so why’d ah…”  He then grew quiet and swallowed, shifting a bit and keeping his eyes on his hands.  “…B-but ‘s yer house, so… j-jus’… how c’n ah live with yew if’n ah can’t live in mah old ‘partment?  An’ how can ah work as yer handyman if’n yew tell me ah c’n take a full-time job in mah uncle’s garage?”

 

“…Heh, yeah, well, the position I had in mind for you isn’t exactly the same as the one you had.  Like you said, you’ll be different around me…  But I think we can both benefit from what I have in mind.”

 

“Nick, yeh’re makin’ no sense…”, Ellis whined, intending to look at the man in front of him again, but Nick cut off anything else he meant to say by slowly pulling him closer, the Christmas wreath Ellis still held onto prickling his chest even through five layers of clothing – or, he mused as they slowly neared each other even more, their breaths warm on each other’s face, that could be just his imagination.

 

When they kissed, it was like the world around them ceased, and Ellis’ lips slowly pressed against his own more insistently, expressing the same need that Nick felt, the same longing that Nick felt.

 

The same love that Nick felt, so overwhelmingly clear now.

 

It took less than ten seconds for Nick and Ellis to both take a slight step back from the kiss again, but it seemed like much, much longer to them, and they both grinned happily.

 

“…Yeah, changes…”, Nick said, and Ellis rolled his eyes.

 

“Okay, ah c’n live with tha’.  ‘s Jus’ one thing left that ain’t righ’.”  He walked inside just a few steps, leaving Nick to be the one that was confused as to what he meant, and placed the wreath on top of one of the cardboard boxes standing in the hallway before walking back to Nick, wrapping his arms around him again and pulling him close once more, this time without the wreath in between them.  It allowed them both to be just that little bit closer together.  “…Ah believe ah didn’t really git tha’ kiss there right from the start…”, Ellis breathed out right before he kissed Nick again, and this time it was so different, so much more, and Nick lost himself in the embrace and the kiss, which was fiery and passionate and which seemed to make him itch with anticipation even more than he’d been when driving up to the hick’s house.

 

“…Ahem…”  Behind them, a dry cough sounded, and Nick and Ellis pulled apart again, turning to the source of the disturbance with their arms still thrown around each other – and next to a thoroughly bemused Bob Tanner, who was holding a grocery bag filled with deep-frozen pizza boxes, an utterly shocked Keith stood, pale and wide-eyed, staring from his friend to Nick and back.  “…N-not that I’m commenting on the fact you two are probably the last two people I expected to catch kissing… but, uh, mind movin’ aside?  We’ve got yer dinner-”

 

“Oh, uh, mah momma didn’t tell yew?  Nick brought us our dinner… he got it from Cole’s in the firs’ place, too, so…”  Keith groaned emphatically and cast Nick a look of loathing, as if he was blaming the man for his running all around town frantically searching for food, but Bob just nodded and winked at his nephew.

 

“Heh, well, deep-freeze pizza doesn’t spoil, and we still get your mom’s renowned Christmas ham…  Okay, just let me an’ Keith here inside and we’ll not bother you anymore…”  Ellis blushed softly as he and Nick stepped aside to allow the two others inside, Keith being pulled along by Bob, and as they disappeared into the kitchen as well, probably informing Ellis’ mother just what they’d walked into, Ellis spoke up again.

 

“…So, uhm… yew mean yew, uhm…”

 

“Ellis, I mean I want you to stop being my handyman and start being my lover… my _partner._   I realized last night that I can’t live without you in my life, and… and I knew somehow that you felt that same way about me.  So why deny it?  …Come back tonight.  My house is yours, my heart is yours… and, uhm… I guess my bed’s yours too…”, he admitted, and Ellis nodded, his blush deepening just a bit.

 

“Ah’ll tell mah momma tha’… well, uhm, ah’ll leave out tha’ last part, she ain’t gon’ wanna know tha’, but…  C’mon, we headin’ inside again, ah’m kinda gettin’ cold…”  He reached for Nick’s hand at the same time Nick reached for his, and they met halfway.  And as they walked into the cosy, warm home of Ellen Tanner, the smell of roasting ham wafting toward them from the kitchen, Nick mused how he’d never had a happier Christmas in his whole life.


	2. BONUS: 36 years later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...just a little extra something for those of you that know where to look...

“…Niiiick… c’mon, man…”, Ellis said, his voice slightly strained as he pushed against the back of the sofa.  “…li’l help would be ‘preciated…”  Nick snorted from next to the television, his white hair meticulously kept in place still but his face weathered and grooved with wrinkles that deepened as he rolled his eyes emphatically.

 

“Oh, come on, Ellis… I’m seventy, why the hell am I going to be moving that thing?”

 

“Ah’m fifty-eight an’ ah’ve got a heart condition, man, show me some mercy!”, Ellis said, finally giving the sofa one last shove and then throwing up his hands.  “Aw, screw it, ah’m callin’ Robby t’morrah an’ havin’ him move it if’n it ain’t right yet.  Or David, tha’ young mechanic workin’ at Keith’s tha’’s always lookin’ at Claire.”

 

“Whatever…”, Nick said, sitting down in the sofa and nodding softly.  “This is a lot better already… man, I can see the picture much better this way…”

 

“Nick, yew’re goin’ blind, ah’m tellin’ yew… yeh really gotta start wearin’ them glasses…”, Ellis complained, but when Nick patted the empty spot beside him, he sank down and sighed as he did so.  “…Nick, yew really-“

 

“Shhh, the movie’s starting any minute now…”, his partner interrupted him, motioning over to the television.

 

“But Nick, ah-“

 

“Ellis, c’mon, man, I wanna see it!”, Nick said in that tone of voice that told Ellis he was ‘doing the old married couple thing’, as Nick called it, again – but the mechanic didn’t relent just yet.

 

“Nick, seriously, man, ah don’t wan’ yew tuh ruin yer eyesight by ignorin’ tha’ optometrist’s advice-“

 

“Seriously, can we just watch the movie?”, Nick said, grabbing the bowl of soft candy he’d prepared for them – gummybears, Ellis’ favourite candy and Nick’s secret sin ever since he’d had to have dentures and hard candy became a bother,  that were seasonally shaped as Christmas trees and reindeer – and shoving it into the mechanic’s hands, effectively silencing him.  He watched the commercials, squinting slightly – but when he noticed Ellis’ worried glance at him, he sighed and reached over to their side table.  “ _Fine,_ I’ll wear the damn glasses if it’ll make you shut up!”, he huffed, pushing the damned thing onto his nose and noticing instantly that his surroundings became much clearer and the movie all the more easier to see, but he wouldn’t ever admit that fact to his partner, that now sat munching on a handful of gummy Christmas trees.

 

Nick never ceased to be amazed that it only took one look at his lover, even after all those years, to make him smile again, his heart leaping up in his chest.  That moment was no exception: one glance at the grey-haired, old-but-still-younger man that he shared virtually everything in his life with, and the corners of his mouth turned up so swiftly  it was like flipping a switch.

 

“…What’re yew smilin’ about, Nick?”, Ellis asked, his voice low so as to not disturb the movie for him, and Nick rolled his eyes and just grabbed a handful of candy for himself.

 

“Nothing, let’s just watch the movie…”  However, he couldn’t have said ‘I love you, Ellis’ more clearly by using the actual words than he had made it sound in his pseudo-irritated words.  And Ellis picked up on that as well, because he moved in the sofa, sitting so he leaned against Nick and placing the bowl on their upper legs so they could both take from it.

 

“…Ah love yew too, Nick…”, he whispered, and Nick kissed him – he wanted to see the movie, sure, but he’d never let an opportunity to kiss the man he loved go to waste and not even a damn movie was going to make him break that habit.  And then, Ellis followed it up with those two words that made the entire holiday all the more festive to Nick: “…merry Christmas…”


End file.
